


Beyond the Valley

by StubbornBeast



Series: Foray into the Supernatural [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blind Dean, Cleric Cain, Deities, Demigod Gabriel, Destiel - Freeform, Elements, F/F, F/M, Fae Charlie, Fantasy Creatures, God Lucifer, God Sam, Goddess Abaddon, Goddess Eileen, Gods and Goddesses, Human Anna, Human Castiel, Human Chuck, M/M, Multi, Mythical Objects, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polygamy, god dean, mythical creatures, mythos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-05 13:03:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12190494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StubbornBeast/pseuds/StubbornBeast
Summary: No one goes beyond the Valley, for the Wildwood is too dangerous.Everyone knows that, but the young sovereign Castiel seems to be drawn to the shadows, despite the path that fate has laid before him. Little does he know that the Gods and Goddesses have much more in store for him than he ever could have imagined. Castiel was never destined to be the sovereign of his clan - he was meant for more than life within the Valley.





	1. Birds Sing Above the Valley

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I'm getting myself into, but I'm in it for the long. haul. people.  
> So maybe you will be, too?
> 
> This is a story loosely based on Moana (I know, right? I can't handle myself.) and given my own kind of twist. It's really only based on the themes, I guess, and that's about it? Even those are rather loosey goosey so... just read and maybe you'll figure it out. 
> 
> This story is also written in a different style than what I normally write in, but I kind of like the challenge. It's meant to take place in a universe where modern-age things do not exist. Not necessarily cavemen times, but some sort of middle-ground, really. The story contains mythical creatures and Gods, Goddesses and items of power. The tags will change (if I remember) as the story develops and I've given it a rating I think is suitable for the entire story itself, even if it doesn't apply in the early chapters. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this! I'm hoping it'll be enough of a difference between my little short stories and my DCJ to keep my muse alive and well.
> 
> If you want to bother me, ask me questions, or be my friend, you can do so at my Tumblr, [here!](http://stubborn-beast.tumblr.com)
> 
> xo.

The sun was high and bright, heat radiating down to lick at his skin. Yet, darkness still encroached along the areas in which they did not travel. He was so close to the shadow and had been for some time now, even as it grew long across the grass. This required that he step back periodically, slow dancing with the long fingers that stretched lazily towards his bare feet. It was temptation calling him, offering a hand to lead him into the thickness of the trees, into the unknown. The canopy shrouded what would be paths of entrance - 'Or exits,' he could practically hear his father recite in his ear – and acted as a sense of reason, a final warning against travel within. Only fools would enter, or those who wished never to return. Animals avoided the shadow's edges and couldn't be heard from the outside. Surely, some living creature must reside within the forest? The birds held no fear in flying over the tops of trees, but they never sang their songs as they did so. They would emerge and sing across the sky, dip and sway with the open breezes. They would nest in the thick grasses and stop to feast on worms emerging in the early morning dew. They never sang above the trees. But surely... something else, other creatures, must live within the shade of the trees? 

"Castiel, get away from there!" 

His father's familiar voice halted his feet, which he hadn't realized were moving. He was standing before a large oak, bark twisted and warped by some unseen force and bleached from the sun when it reached just the right place in the sky. Its inner bark darkened, almost black, as if burned from the shadows themselves. The young boy shook his head, breaking from his trance, as he turned his blue eyes to the familiar features of his father. The man's face littered with rough hair and his lips set into a grim line, though it softened as he approached. There were wrinkles around his eyes that hinted at many summers of laughter and winters of tepid smiles. Dark brows and thick lashes emphasized eyes that held an understanding beyond their years. The hair atop his head was the color of blended stone and in a perpetual state of disarray, like the tall grasses swaying in the breeze. The sight of his father instantly turned the young boy bashful. Eyes like the fresh stream turned down to small, dirtied feet as he felt his father's heavy hands lift him from the ground. He was brought into the familiar comfort of his father's chest as his deep voice resonated in his ear, a soothing hand on his back indicating that his father wasn't punishing him for wandering. 'Curiosity is a healthy thing,' he'd always said. 

"You know the rules, Castiel." 

"No one goes into the Wildwood," the young boy recited, the words familiar and understood. 

"That's right. We have everything we need right here in the Valley, thanks to the Gods and Goddesses that have graced us with a fruitful life." 

Castiel had spent his entire life learning about these gods and goddesses. They weren't real to him; he'd never seen them nor experienced evidence of their good work. But the Wildwood was _real_ and there, always lurking and tempting him from the shadows, a circle around the safety of their Valley. His father continued to speak to him while carrying him down the dirt path towards the clan center, but Castiel only heard the birds singing above them, casting shadows beneath the sun.

* * *

_"The Gods are good to us, and so we are good to the Gods."_

The words uttered in unison by old and young, everyone in the clan, speaking into the morning sky. The sun would hear the words and give them warmth through the day. The wind would carry their words to the earth and water, giving their foods life and keeping their water clean. The Gods would be pleased with their offerings, their praise, and smile down upon them so they would be able to live long, happy lives, in the Valley. 

Those words were familiar to Castiel, etched into the recesses of his mind as far back as he was capable of remembering. He supposed it made sense, considering he was the eldest child of the clan's sovereign, and future leader of these people. He was familiar with the practices of the clan early in his life: how to act, how to handle problems and listen to the people. His father praised him for having a personality for their fellow clansman and often rejoiced in his son's ability to think of solutions not considered by himself or the elders. It appeared to everyone in the clan that Castiel would easily fill his father's role as sovereign when it would pass to him at the right time. He would get to place his feather in the Sovereign Tree alongside his father and his grandfather and his grandmother before that. He didn't understand the significance when he was younger, but as summers passed, he would often visit the Sovereign Tree and imagine his feather there. He felt the familiarity of pride as he imagined the ceremony, his father's smile as he fulfilled his destiny. Everyone had faith in him; he needed faith, himself. 

He couldn't help but feel like his destiny wasn't limited to within the Valley's confines. He didn't know why. There was nothing for Castiel beyond the Valley. Just darkness and the unknown. 

As everyone raised their hands to the sky to give thanks for the breeze, eyes closed in a sign of submission to the Gods, Castiel's were wide open and drawn to the darkness lurking at the edge of their light.

* * *

"You're doing well, Castiel. No need to pull the seams from your shirt." 

Anna's voice was light and melodic, bringing a smile to Castiel's lips as he turned to face her. Her brow raised and she was pointedly looking at where his fingers were picking at the edge of his tunic. If he could guess, he would assume that her delicate foot was tapping beneath her skirts, as well. He gave her – what he hoped was – a sheepish grin before straightening his stance and looking at the small gathering of people at the edge of the gardens. 

"Are you certain? What if I'm steering them in the wrong direction?" 

"You've thought about this more than anyone else, Castiel. If you start to doubt yourself, they'll doubt you, too." 

Briefly, Castiel looked down at his sister as she came to stand at his side. He wondered if she should be the one to become sovereign over the Valley; she was often so wisely spoken beyond her younger years. In terms of tradition, sovereign always passed to the eldest child, so it would naturally fall to his shoulders. Not for the first time did the idea of passing his duty to his sister move through his mind. A swift shake of his head knocked the thought loose and allowed it to disappear as he preoccupied himself with his sleeve once more. 

The earth was having trouble taking the first seeds of the planting season. Nothing had sprouted, even after a generous rain and a lack of crows for the time of year. Before panic could set in as the planting season began to end, Charles had turned to Castiel to instruct his future people. Castiel knew that Charles would intervene if his decisions would negatively affect their people, so they wouldn't suffer but Castiel could still learn from his mistakes. 'It's part of becoming the sovereign, Castiel. And part of being human. Mistakes were made by the humans because we do not possess the powers of the Gods.' Charles' words floated through his head like scripture straight from Cain's mouth, soothing a part of him that was dependent on familiarity. That was safety; that was the path of a future sovereign. 

Castiel had suggested they relocate the gardens to softer soil. After using the same spot in the Valley for their garden for many years, he assumed that the earth might need a break. His father had clapped him on the shoulder and their cleric, Cain, had grinned in approval. 'God Samuel would smile upon your decision, young Castiel.' It was a great honor to imagine such a thing, though Castiel was certain that the God of the Earth had many more important matters to attend to than to worry about a young future sovereign making decisions about fruits and vegetables. 

Anna slapped his hand from the seam of his sleeve and Castiel sighed, watching his people with a knit to his dark brows. "Let's just hope I'm right."

* * *

"Is that what I think it is?" 

"What's it doing here?" 

"It's a bad sign from the Gods!" 

"We've displeased them somehow!" 

The chatter drew the sovereign's attention, the volume of the panicked voices escalating above the howling winter wind. Charles made his way to the crowd with his cloak wrapped around his body, Castiel trailing in his wake. The threat of winter was upon them and the first snow was beginning to fall and paint the ground pure. It landed in small flecks upon the earth, in the hair of the people standing and staring, whispering those worried words. 

"Chuck, thank goodness you've arrived!" 

"What seems to be causing all of the fuss?" 

The sovereign froze in his tracks, and small pebbles kicked up from his shoes from the force of it. Castiel almost ran into his father's back, a grunt leaving his chapped lips as he side-stepped the dumbstruck man and glanced towards the subject of conversation. At first, he saw nothing but the familiar shadows of the Wildwood, tantalizing and even more contrasted now that winter had started to arrive. As he squinted, his heart began to race. A shape was beginning to form against the dark background, walking the edge of the wood, as if patrolling the line that separated its shadows from the bright space of the Valley. The wind stole his breath as he stared in wonder at the beast: a horse. It had to have been large to appear at such a distance, its coat the color of partially cooled ash. As the people fell silent and stared, the winter breeze picked up and rushed through their land, rustling their hair and shaking the grasses. The dark mane of the beast twisted and danced with the wind, almost as if it was made of air itself. It was the last thing they saw of it before the horse turned and disappeared into the shadows. 

"Chuck... Chuck, what could it mean?" 

Castiel focused back on the people standing before them – half of the clan, it seemed – and saw all of their eyes focused on his father. Charles was standing there calmly, but Castiel saw the storm brewing in his eyes. His father's stance stiffened and he tugged his cloak tighter, schooling his expression into something more easy-going for the sake of his people. 

"Let's discuss this... happening inside the gathering hut. It's much warmer in there. Parents, please send your children home. I'd prefer this conversation to be a more serious one." 

With that, Charles turned and allowed his people to follow or head to their own huts. The only one who remained behind after a few long moments was Castiel, whose eyes had wandered back to the edge of the Wildwood where the horse had been standing. Horses were said to be omens – though good or bad in nature depended on what lore one listened to or believed at all. In the eyes of Charles, horses would always be a bad omen, so Castiel had an idea of how the conversation in the gathering hut would go. 

The young sovereign couldn't help but wonder – and not for the first time – if his father's belief in what a horse stood for was manipulated by his previous experiences with them. What was truly so horrible about horses? Castiel, of course, had never seen a horse in his life before that moment. He'd never seen anything that large come from the Wildwood, especially in the winter season. The spring and summer brought game of all kinds to the Valley, as many animals seemed drawn to the place that lacked natural hunters. People were hunters in the Valley and the people of his clan only had lore and tales of creatures like wolves, bears, and large cats encroaching on the Valley. It was hard for the younger members of the clan to believe that these creatures existed outside of lore when they'd never seen them in person. 

But horses? Horses weren't lore. Horses were real and held a history in the Valley, a history that ended with the death of Castiel's mother. A horse hadn't been seen in the Valley since that incident... 

Until now.


	2. Heavy Clouds, Yet No Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My posting schedule will probably be delayed for the next couple of weeks. I will be traveling from October 4th to October 16th. It should be picking up to one chapter a week after that, though! 
> 
> I'm much more active on my tumblr, if ya'll are interested! [Come say hello!](http://stubborn-beast.tumblr.com)
> 
> xo.

The sight of a horse at the edge of the Valley changed everything. 

People became wary of one another, steered further away from the edges of the Wildwood and wouldn't dare stay out once the sun disappeared beyond the coverage of the trees and distant mountains. Charles had informed the clan that the sight of a horse did not automatically translate into a poor omen for their people. Horses were part of the world as the Gods and Goddesses had created, serving their purpose just as they should. The words comforted some – and even more when cleric Cain stepped in to share his thoughts of the matter – but there were still spectators that loomed around the edges. They shared whispers as they watched the sun descend and kept to the back of the crowd during the morning rituals. Even though Castiel was the future sovereign of the clan, he found himself relating more and more to those outsiders than he did with the majority of his clan. Their fears and feelings were just as valid as the majority. His father, as a ruler, understood that as well... or so Castiel had believed. He had grown to hope that Charles would forgive the horses for what they'd done, to learn to understand that what had happened to his love was just an accident. Castiel knew his father was a good man, a just leader, but he was also human. Humans carried flaws carved into their bodies, twisted into their core, in the form of twisted emotions like envy, jealousy, and bitterness. 

While Charles was a gentle man and righteous sovereign to the people of the Valley, it was bitterness that clung to him like sweat on a summer's day. 

Castiel didn't know what to make of it, to be truthful. His father had always seemed like a charismatic man who cared greatly for his people. Now, Castiel could see the way his jaw would tense with irritation or how his pace had quickened whenever he visited the sickly towards the edges of the village center. His happy smile didn't reach his eyes anymore to bring about their sparkle and Castiel was certain he was the only one who noticed. Something had changed within his father the night the horse had been spotted, something that Castiel couldn't yet label as being good or bad. His gut was telling him that there was more than meets the eye about the whole horse situation, and Castiel's gut was often fairly accurate in its assumptions. 

He just wished he had more to think about than the uneasiness of a gut instinct and a constant wondering about what was beyond the Wildwood.

* * *

"They've yet to leave." 

The familiar cadence of the clan's cleric reached Castiel's ears easily through the stale air, yet he didn't tear his eyes away from the tumultuous and cursed clouds hanging heavily above them. The muscles behind his thick brows were starting to ache from being knit together – as if a hard, stern stare could will the clouds to move past the boundaries of the mountains, or at least provide the rain they seemed to be teasing them with for days now. 

"It's been so long... people are starting to wonder." 

"I believe the word you meant to say was 'talk', cleric." 

Cain chuckled at Castiel's quick retort, mirth hidden in his gaze as he shrugged his shoulders, shifting the simplistic tunic of white he wore as a symbol of his commitment to the Gods and Goddesses. Castiel always wondered how he managed to keep it so spotlessly clean while tending the bees along the southern portion of the clan's fields, but never enough to actually inquire. As he pondered about what he said that was so funny, Cain continued to speak and interrupt his thoughts, turning his own rugged gaze to the dark skies above. 

"You're correct, young sovereign. The people are beginning to talk, quite loudly, and wonder about why the clouds remain yet bring no rain." 

Castiel liked Cain, but he preferred it when people spoke in a straight-forward manner, instead of dancing around the subject. He could tell that Cain was doing just this – he would never approach the son of the sovereign just for idle chatter. No one ever spoke to Castiel directly just to ask him how his day was going, or if he had found a new interest. No, people approached the sovereign's son whenever something was needed: a plow needed repaired, or the crops needed inspecting, or someone's hen wasn't laying. It was all of the necessary burdens he bore as a sovereign's son, but it was also the part of the job he handled differently than his father. Charles was well liked amongst the people for his personality, his charm, and his wise ways. He'd lived his entire life in the Valley and came from a line of sovereign's in this region. Castiel had an... awkward way with people, sometimes unsure what to say, preferring to keep his silence. There were times when the ritual spaces felt too crowded, even if he'd been there almost every day since he was capable of remembering. Those times, it felt like it was hard to breathe, hard to pull himself back from his spatial boundaries to connect with the Gods and Goddesses they were giving praise to. How could he be a successful sovereign if he couldn't focus during those key, monumental moments that everyone depended on so much? 

Cain was one of the few that seemed to understand his struggles – even if they'd never discussed them aloud. 

"Those crops that just took root will wither by the next moon if we don't get any sunlight. Those clouds have not produced a single drop of rain, despite the heaviness they seem to yield. They do not pass the mountains because there has been no breeze to speak of to gently give them passage." 

The future sovereign merely nodded along with the cleric's statements, knowing them all to be true fears he'd been mulling over for many days. It was part of his duty, engrained into him, to consider all of the possibilities and risks that would come with different situations. As much as Castiel wished he could move the clouds himself and dispel his people's worries – he could not. He was no demigod. 

"What are you suggesting is the cause of this odd weather, Cain?" 

By using the cleric's name, Cain understood that Castiel was asking him for his thoughts as a friend, an elder to be respected, not as the young, future sovereign of the clan. Cain's gaze did not move from the clouds, though his beard of black-and-white shifted as he spoke his answer: 

"The Gods." 

Before Castiel could make a remark – probably one that would bring anyone else to gasp at his indignation – Cain continued on with his thoughts. 

"There has been rumors and words spreading about the demigod Gabriel, using his mischievous abilities to steal the relics of the Gods and Goddesses. As you know, these relics are what channel the powers of our higher beings and are necessary for them to perform their given duties." 

Again, it took a lot of Castiel's will to not tune out the words of the elder cleric. He did speak up though, his brow raised with the idea that Cain was thinking he'd take these suggestions seriously. 

"So... you believe the demigod Gabriel, from my childhood lore, is out and about stealing from the Gods and causing problems with our livelihood?" 

Cain glanced towards Castiel with a look that thoroughly chastised the young man for what he'd said, but he couldn’t help but think there was some truth to his thoughts and worries. What Cain was suggesting sounded absolutely ridiculous and like something none of the other clan members would believe. They may believe in the Gods and Goddesses, but there was no way they would consider the idea that their powers could easily be stripped away by some demigod. 

"This is not a trivial matter, Castiel." Cain's stern voice was never something Castiel desired to be on the receiving end of. "If the Gods are suffering at the hands of someone like Gabriel, we're set to suffer, too. It's already begun – haven't you noticed?" 

As Castiel pondered the idea, he realized that Cain was right. The crops not taking to the soil, the lack of rain, and now the lack of sunlight. Something was seriously wrong with the world around them. It only made logical sense that the Gods and Goddesses had something to do with it. Castiel attempted to shelve his curiosity for a moment as he sucked in a breath, giving Cain a firm nod to show he had listened and he had noticed. Cain appeared to be satisfied with the young sovereign's answer, but continued to speak. 

"The weather has been different since I was a young boy, Castiel. The Valley was merely lucky – those around us have suffered greatly for a long time. The balance has been tipped for years now." 

"So what are we supposed to do? Crumble like the other civilizations? Or leave the Valley? You know father would never agree to something -" 

"No. I'm not suggesting we leave the Valley unless it's absolutely necessary. I believe that the Gods and Goddesses need some help." 

Castiel nodded slowly, trying desperately to think of where this could be going. It made sense, but how would any kind of mortal help the Gods and Goddesses? It'd happened before in the lore amongst their peoples, but that was just lore... Well, at least, that's what Castiel had thought. He set his blue gaze onto the cleric and then nodded again, speaking with a more diplomatic tone that he often embodied whenever discussing issues with the clanspeople. 

"Your connection with them would certainly help. What do you think you could possibly do to help the Gods and Goddesses, though, Cain?" 

A deep, booming laugh left the man standing before the young sovereign, causing his dark brows to shoot up and then knit together in confusion. There was a shimmer to the older man's eyes as he stepped forward and placed a hand upon Castiel's shoulder, giving the muscles there a squeeze. 

"I don't speak for myself, Castiel. I speak about you. You're the one meant to help the Gods and Goddesses."


	3. The Tree of the Sovereign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, everyone!   
> Hope the few of you reading this can forgive me. <3
> 
> If you're still here, thank you for sticking around. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.  
> xo.

"No." 

"But, Father, it's the only way - " 

"I said _**no**_ , Castiel. And that's final." 

Frustration brought the young sovereign's jaw to click shut as his father stared him down with finality. There would be no swaying the current sovereign; Chuck had long ago made up his mind about the Wildwood. Castiel had thought his father to be a rather lenient man, open to suggestion, and had proven it time and time again while Castiel was still learning how to take his place. Yet, here they were, facing one another in front of the elders during an important gathering addressing what to do about their current crop situation. It was only a situation because there would be no crops, not if by some miracle the clouds would give their ground some sunlight. The animals were already starting to turn sparse, fleeing away from the openness of the Valley as the cooler temperatures started to linger. The Valley lacked the cover the smaller creatures needed in this desperate time, which meant that those in the clan that hunted were finding less and less food to try and store. And with the fields not yielding any crops... Castiel had figured that desperate times were calling for desperate measures. 

"No generation in this clan has even _entered_ the Wildwood. No one knows what lies within those trees. We rely on rumors and old tales passed through generations. The world changes, father! We've seen it happening all around us. We have been lucky before, but our luck has fallen. Luck will provide nothing for our people to survive on." 

It took immense concentration for Castiel to keep his temper from spilling into his tone. There would be no convincing Charles to allow him to go into the Wildwood if he came into the conversation with anger. The father and son were too alike in that aspect, too bull-headed. Cain often told them that only wise words come from calm mouths, while the truth comes from a source of anger. He knew there would be no way to properly convince his father if he acted angry – though, he was well aware that there might not be a way to convince his father no matter what methods he tried. 

The elders were particularly silent during this conversation, sitting around the pair in a half circle, old eyes watching the scene unfold. The elders often provided guidance in times of need and shed light on situations that may have occurred in the far past. Yet, none of them knew what to suggest in this time of need. How does one offer advice on moving the clouds? Only Cain sat amongst them with a bit of warmth on his features, for he knew the true reason behind Castiel's pressing of his father and sovereign. While the elders – including Cain as the clan cleric – could offer their suggestions and opinions, no one person could overthrow the opinion of the sovereign unless there was a unanimous decision between them all. Castiel doubted the elders could reach such a decision with such a frivolous idea being thrown around. 

"Our clan will survive as it always has, Castiel. With faith in our elders and the Gods and Goddesses – we will continue on through this time and continue our prayers and offerings. Your faith in the Gods is wavering." 

The truth of the statement cut through Castiel, rooting him to the spot. He felt a flare of embarrassment color his face as every eye in the room turned on him. Their eyes didn't matter; it was the harshness around his father's gaze that burned a slow path through him, smoking his core. A deep breath in and he exhaled a bit of that smoke, willing his muscles to relax beneath taut skin. His lips parted to allow a path for his words, but Charles interrupted him with a raised hand. 

"That's enough, Castiel. You're to be the future sovereign of this land, but you'll never follow this path if you continue to suggest such wild ideas. Unless you fix your connection to the Gods and Goddesses, there will be no reason to continue your sovereign training." 

There were murmured whispers echoing around them, but Castiel hardly heard them over the sound of rushing in his own ears. As Chuck's hand lowered, Castiel's body jerked back, as if his father would dare to lay a hand on his own son. He shook his head, but it cleared nothing in his mind. And the next thing he knew, he had burst from the gathering hut and the ground was heavy beneath his feet. He ran through the dirt paths until they gave way to tall grasses. He ran despite the feeling of the sharper blades cutting against his feet and legs. His muscles screamed as the wind bit at his flesh, stinging him as his vision blurred. Before he knew it, Castiel hit his knees at the base of a very familiar tree. It towered over everything else in the Valley; it's branches reaching and spreading, naked with the chill of winter upon them. The bark of it was unique, pale in color with the pieces appearing along its body like patches to be peeled. 

The Tree of the Sovereign. 

Castiel lifted his head and let out an anguished cry, the pain ripping from his chest and spilling forth into the night. There was no wind to carry it, no wind to shift the leaves he was kneeling in or to shake the grasses surrounding him. No wind to move the damned clouds blocking the moon and stars above. No wind to gentle shake the strands that hung from the lower branches, each in place to represent a sovereign who protected and cared for the clan of the Valley. The leather cords were wrapped around the branches, decorated with hand-carved beads and ending in the feather of a bird. Each feather held a different appearance, all holding a special meaning to its according sovereign. Angry eyes turned to the strand on the end: a longer feather that hung tantalizing in the air above him. In the darkness, the features were almost impossible to see, but Castiel knew the feather well. Chuck's chosen bird had not been one of power, but rather a simple songbird with beautiful yellow colors woven in the threads of the feather. Something simple, yet gentle, a bird with a beautiful song. Castiel used to come to this tree and imagine what his strand would look like up there, with the other sovereigns of the past. 

Now... he might never get the chance to hang his thread on the tree. He might never lead his people, those he cared about enough to suggest leaving the Valley to try and help them. 

The weight of his situation laid heavily upon him, slumping his shoulders. His body bowed forward and the smooth bark of the tree rested against his forehead. His body was still, though his mind worked, and he was so caught up in his own musings that he neglected to hear the arrival of someone behind him. He only became aware when a familiar voice, warm like honey, reached his ears. 

"You can save our people, Castiel." 

His argument died in his throat as he turned his head, blue eyes glancing back to see the cleric holding up a bag. This bag was familiar to Castiel; it was his own, a pack he often carried around to collect supplies. It now appeared to be filled with what he could only imagine would be items of utmost importance. 

"What if... what if I'm not meant to?" 

Castiel spoke as he rose from the ground, knees dirtied, and stared at Cain before him. The Tree of the Sovereign stood high behind him, a looming force that used to bring him comfort and focus, but now felt like a burdened weight in his stomach. The smile on Cain's lips was soft and sincere, his eyes alight with a knowledge that Castiel could only hope to one day possess. Cain shook the pack in his hand, urging Castiel to take it from him, as he spoke once more. 

"Never doubt your instincts, Castiel." 

The cleric touched Castiel's forehead before turning and walking back towards the clan, the tall grasses brushing against his arms and body. Castiel watched him disappear before glancing down at the pack he held in both hands. His knuckles were white and his heart raced in his chest. _Never doubt your instincts, Castiel._

The obedient part of him knew he needed to stay, make amends with his father and people, and try to reconnect with the Gods and Goddesses. He needed to ask for forgiveness for his misguided mind. He needed to earn back everyone's respect in order to become a proper sovereign to help his people. He needed to become who his father wanted him to be and who his people _needed_ him to be. Castiel raised his gaze towards the towering tree and reached out to touch the bark, feeling the smooth texture beneath his fingertips. 

He could turn back now and go to the clan, request his father's forgiveness, and get some rest before the night gave way to morning. 

He could pray with everyone as the sun rose to hide behind the clouds. 

The obedient part of him knew what he had to do in order to return to the proper path. 

As Castiel walked away from the Tree of the Sovereign, the Wildwood loomed before him like an impenetrable force of darkness. He knew he should probably feel afraid, but a strange sense of relief washed over him as he stepped into its shadow and moved into the line of trees, making his way into the darkness. 

He would make his own path.


	4. Gathering of Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's anyone still around to read this, I thank you incredibly for your patience. 
> 
> My muse has suffered greatly, as of late, and it was hard to sit down and think of where this story was going next.  
> This is the first story I've ever written that I actually had planned out a timeline for - and it's proven that it was a rather useless endeavor.  
> I've scrapped it time and time again, finding that I had ideas written down that I wished to apply, but never did.  
> Hopefully, it won't matter in the end, and I can continue with it now with the alterations to my original plan.
> 
> Here's the introduction of some of the Gods for you! I had to bring them around eventually, yeah?  
> And yes - I'm aware this entire chapter is italicized. I did it on purpose, as I will do whenever the Gods/Goddesses are in their Godly homes talking with other Gods/Goddesses/supernatural beings.  
> I hope you're enjoying the story, if you're here reading. <3

* * *

_  
"Brother... you must put an end to this... this sulking."_

_Even without the ability of sight, the God knew that his brother – and uninvited guest – was giving him a sour look, despite the attempted gentleness of his tone. The familiar feeling of his stone throne was unwelcome to him, cold and dense, with no malleable edge in sight. It forced the God to his feet and allowed him to turn away from the feeling of his own kin's prying eyes. His own words were spoken with an attempt at humor, though it was dry and his voice cracked with disuse._

_"Did you swallow Charlie into the Earth to get past her, brother?"_

_While he knew that Samuel would do no such thing, there must have been some kind of trickery to him managing to get past the holds and wards his friend had placed upon his broken palace. The fairy was a strong one, filled with the typical mischief of her kind, but lacked the spark of cruelty some seemed to harbor. They were one of the few humanoid species that did not take the Gods and Goddesses seriously. Some of their kind suffered greatly for it and were often shunned by any being of power all across the cosmos. All the more reason for Dean to befriend her and keep her close. Her loyalty to him had been proven time and time again, even when his dear brother could not show his face, Charlie was always there for him. Except... for now. He didn't know how Samuel managed to distract her away from her position of guarding, but he did hope he hadn't done anything too harsh to the woman._

_"You know I didn't. I actually... came at her call, Dean. Word has spread that Gabriel is on the move, searching for something. I suspect another relic will be stolen soon."_

_The wind chilled around them, the natural stones of their surroundings aiding in the seeping feeling that would have crippled any mere mortal with trembles to wrack their entire body. The Gods were used to such a thing, and Dean himself felt a spike of familiarity and thankfulness that some part of his power could still be harnessed._

_"And what, pray tell, do you believe this has to do with me? Just dropped by to bring the news that some other poor bastard will be in as bad as shape as I am soon enough?"_

_Anger filled his tone, his unseeing eyes whipping around to face his brother. His ability to see had disappeared achingly slow, seeping away from him like how the summer heat seemed to melt any cool breezes that tried to budge it. The God's anger stemmed from his wounded pride, a wound that was still open and festering at any mere mention of the demi-god's name in his presence: Gabriel. The next time he encountered that trickster he would pull the air right from his lungs and never return it. The man they had grown to trust, the man who had earned god-like abilities from the enchanted rope they had bestowed upon him – he, Samuel, and Eileen. The idea of a rope had come from Charlie, for Gabriel had once been an avid sailor. He had almost died saving the lives of many, many other innocent folk. He had become a demi-god because he had earned it, just as he had earned the friendship of most of the Gods who aided him._

_The sudden betrayal had stung more than Dean's hurt pride._

_"Do you truly not care to try and help? Are you willing to waste away up here, in the mountains, while people all around you suffer?"_

_Samuel's tone was incredulous and Dean imagined that, should he have been able to see his face, it would have matched his voice perfectly. A raising of his brows, a set in his jaw, hair too long to manage and ripe for teasing with the wind... wind Dean no longer had the ability to truly manipulate and control. Dean knew that people were suffering because of him, because he could do nothing to help them. He couldn't rid the clouds settling over towns; he couldn't send breezes through the trees to spread seed for growth and food. He couldn't bring clouds heavy with rain to those lands that were thirsting._

_What he could do was feeling the suffering. He could feel the change in everything around him and in the forest surrounding his home. He knew that was what drew Samuel there – his worry not only for his brother, but for the suffering he was feeling in the dryness of the land and the dying of its inhabitants, be them animal or plant or man. If Gabriel was continuing this mission of madness, bent on the destruction of each faction controlling the elements, it wouldn't be long before he came for another. Would it be Samuel? Would it be Eileen or Abaddon?_

_"You know that's not true."_

_Dean's words fell between them softly, his tone dangerous and calm. A deep sigh echoed from somewhere to his right, indicating that Samuel had been moving while Dean had been lost in thought. Of course, Samuel knew that Dean cared about his element, his abilities, and those who were suffering because he had no way of controlling them any longer. His powers had been tied to his staff; Dean had been the first victim in Gabriel's sudden switch of sides._

_"Why do you think he's doing this?"_

_It was Charlie's voice this time, somewhere closer to him, speaking from what he believed was the stone table. She often perched herself there, beneath the broken window that had once held a beautiful stained glass, so Dean was not surprised. He turned his head, his once green eyes milky with his blindness, and shook it once._

_"If I knew the answer, I would have suggested it long ago."_

_It was Samuel who spoke the words, rife with frustration that only seemed to be aimed and directed at himself. It was he who had suggested Gabriel to become a demi-god, after all, when Eileen had taken pity upon him as he almost drowned on the stormy seas. Dean could only imagine that, in the true fashion of his brother, he was taking all of this upon himself. Dean, on the other hand, was doing the same thing – but for a different reason altogether. The God of the Wind and Sky had lost a fight to a demi-god trickster and, while lying trapped upon the ground, had watched as his staff was stolen. Rage had filled him as Gabriel disappeared into the night, leaving him to freeze against the stone floor until Charlie discovered him with the rising sun. The anger had not ceased, but the damage done to his pride had crippled him._

_And then... his vision had waned, and his want to save those around him had dimmed like the fading summer sun. Why should he help mortals when the ones they showed favor to seemed to have a habit of turning on them? When would the Gods and Goddesses learn that mortals lacked a sense of good and what was right, too tempted by power and regality when it was presented by the Gods themselves? But underlying all of this... was the fear that Dean, with his blindness and lack of control, would never be able to gain his staff back. He would not be able to help people or anyone ever again and he would forever live upon his mountain, a useless waste of space._

_"Well... I may not be able to provide an answer, but help may be coming sooner than you think, if you dolts are willing to accept it."_

_Charlie's words caught the attention of the Gods, causing them to turn on their heels and face her. Dean could hear the fluttering of her wings shifting the air around them and focused in on the intake of Samuel's breath nearby._

_"What do you mean, Charlie?"_

_"I mean that the Chosen One has entered the wood. Surely you can feel it, Samuel?"_

_"That's just a prophecy."_

_Dean's words were bitten out. The prophecy of the Chosen One was weak, at best, lacking details and specifics and everything one would truly need to rely on it. Most prophecies seemed like ridiculous hopes to Dean, desperate people focusing on something to give themselves a way out. But the prophecy of the Chosen One was created by a God – a fallen God that was around many years ago. His doubt was well-founded, but ignorant, and even he knew it before Samuel echoed his own thoughts with a snort._

_"Dean, don't be foolish. And now that you mention it Charlie... yes. I can feel it. I can feel the Arrow with him."_

_"It must be nice to be able to feel that connection."_

_The jealousy Dean felt overwhelmed him in that moment, consuming his weakened mind. He would be right there with Samuel, feeling the pull of the Arrow and Chosen One had he not been so weak and stupid to get his staff stolen. He was a useless God who deserved the suffering that would come. He took a step back and felt the sets of eyes upon him, could practically sense their pity from across the room._

_"Dean you know -"_

_"Dean it's not -"_

_"No. I'm done with this, both of you. If you want to go on some fantastical journey to find this so-called 'Chosen One' to try and stop Gabriel, then be my guest. But I'm not being dragged along as the rocks in your pockets or the thorn in your sides. You can find the Chosen One together – and without me."_

_Their protests were lost with a sudden gust of wind – spurred by Dean's own powerful emotions – and the slamming of a large, oak door. The steps were familiar enough to Dean that he no longer stumbled as he climbed up to his tower, a place that used to bring him calm and peace, that now only allowed his despair to fester._

_At least, up in his tower, he could pretend to feel like the breezes that surrounded him were ones he had created on purpose. At least, he could pretend to feel like the God he was supposed to be._


	5. The Fairy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been almost a month since I last updated this story, and I've got no excuses.  
> I could ramble about a lost muse and lost notes about where I was taking this story (-sobs-), but I won't.  
> I'm thankful for anyone who's stuck around! Hopefully I can kick my own ass into gear and keep this one going.
> 
> Feel free to pester me on my tumblr, [here](http://stubborn-beast.tumblr.com). I do updates and little ramblings there.
> 
> xo.

* * *

Castiel wasn't sure what he had been expecting. 

The stories that surrounded the Wildwood were shrouded with darkness and lore. Horrible creatures guarded treasures and sought the meat of man in the shadows of the trees. They often said that in the far north, men far taller than anyone could imagine crunched on the bones of mortal babes in order to keep mortality. They say that the sighting of a wild horse would bring the worst of luck upon a village, while seeing an eagle was a sign of prosperity. The Gods and Goddesses were viewed in a way that spurred fear – fear of those more powerful than a human could ever hope to be. The Gods were meant to be feared and adored, revered for their abilities to bring about good fortune and tear down cities without a raising more than a finger. 

These tales were simply that to Castiel: tales, or stories, meant to keep people in line and keep their faith when times grew tough and weary. It was easy to give someone faith, for someone to put their worries and strains upon a higher being. It made sense to people and gave them hope – be it false in nature, or not. Castiel had been questioning faith for most of his life and felt wrong repeating the mantras his father had culminated with Cain over the years. He felt like an outsider standing in the great circle, praying in the morning among the faithful. If the Gods were real, did they know him? Did they understand his disbelief in the system put in place by man? A part of Castiel hoped he was wrong; he hoped that there could be faith in higher beings with supernatural abilities. He hoped that whatever Cain had been spouting about his ability to save their people wasn't folly. He hoped, most of all, that he wouldn't let anyone down. _Those_ were things to hope for, not that the Gods would come to solve all of his problems. 

Stepping into the shadows of the Wildwood had been intimidating, at first. Everything was incredibly dark with the thinning canopy looming overhead to block the light of the stars and moon. Every little sound was loud against his ears, joining the thrumming of his heart. It was exhilarating to know that he was going somewhere no one in his clan had ever dared to go before. It was a relief to finally journey into the place that had called to him since he was a young boy, standing at the edges of the shadows and playing a game of keep-away with them as the sun changed position in the sky. The sounds and scents were different hear, filled with musky earth and crisp leaves. He could hear the distant hooting of an owl echoing around him and the rustling of smaller creatures in the bushes. A few snaps of twigs made him jump and pick up the pace, hiking his pack over his shoulder and gripping it a little tighter. _Just keep moving, Castiel. You don't know what you're looking for – but you need to keep moving._

His feet kept pace as the darkness began to give way to light. He walked all night and into the morning, listening as the sounds of night birds faded and those of the morning began to sing their songs. The Wildwood wasn't nearly as frightening as he had originally believed; what he had been forced to believe, at least. It was vibrant and filled with colors of wildflowers and grasses. Many creatures shifted and moved about, filling gaps and creating motion in the otherwise still landscape. Castiel even startled a pair of deer – a young doe and her fawn – causing them to bound away gracefully as he merely stood and watched, fascinated. The Valley was so different from this place, surrounded by trees and yet, still managing to feel so open and alive. 

It was a long while before Castiel allowed himself to stop and rest. He sat at the base of a large oak tree, swinging his pack to his lap and opening the drawstring. Inside was a change of clothes and a thicker tunic to keep him warm. He also found a few bags that were empty, but would easily serve a purpose to help him carry food items he could gather on his journey. He found a small stash of food already on his person, as well: berries wrapped in a beeswax cloth, cured meat strips, and acorns. He chewed on a piece of meat as he dug through to the bottom of his pack, his jaw clenching as he felt the final item in his fingers. Delicately, Castiel removed the necklace from his bag and looked over it, his index finger tracing along the sharpest edge. 

The necklace was a leather cord adorned with a beautiful arrowhead. It was a stone that Castiel had found in his youth while playing near the edge of the Wildwood. He'd been running through the fallen leaves of the trees, romping with one of the Village dogs. In the midst of his laughter, he lost his footing and tripped, landing with a thud in a pile of dirt. Instead of tears, as most his age would've turned to, Castiel was bursting with laughter that only died as he turned his bright blue eyes on a curious stone in front of him. The arrow itself was settled atop the dirt, as if set there on purpose, and facing into the Wildwood. Castiel's eyes had tracked the path and gone back to the arrow itself before he picked it up with curious fingers. 

The stone felt... warm in his palm, warm in a way that didn't make sense for a stone to be. The sounds of his father had drawn him away from the leaves and the wood, but the stone had gone with him, clutched in a tiny palm. No matter the season, the arrow always remained warm to the touch, and that was not any different now. 

Castiel turned the stone over and over in his hand, his piece of meat long gone. How he wished he knew where he was going, what he was supposed to do. The wise words of Cain were hardly a direction to go by and the Wildwood was believed to be a vast land. Letting out a sigh, Castiel leaned his head back on the tree and closed his eyes, the arrow resting atop his knee. 

It's hard to say if he drifted off or had merely not been paying attention, but the next thing he knew, Castiel was jerking awake to the sound of whispering nearby. He sat up straight and snatched the arrow from his knee, his pack tucked beside him. He listened – it did not sound like any animal he had ever heard before... in fact, it sounded very _human_. But what human would be found out here, besides him? Were there people who lived in the Wildwood? He swallowed heavily and sat still, trying to focus and see if he could tell if the voice was moving closer. After a few minutes, he determined that it wasn't moving at all, but at the same distance it had been before. Standing carefully, Castiel slipped his pack over his shoulders and the necklace around his nape, letting the arrow fall beneath the protection of his tunic. 

His feet carried him quietly through the grass as he followed the whispers, only to discover that it wasn't someone whispering at all. The closer he got to the voice, the louder it became until Castiel was certain he was close enough to possibly see the speaker. He tipped his head around a tree and stopped at the sight before him. 

It was a woman with hair like fire, crouched down among fungus and flowers, her voice directed at her faceless audience. Though, seeing a woman talking to plants in the forest was hardly the strangest part, Castiel realized. 

Akin to the shape and style of a dragonfly, this woman had golden, shimmering _wings_ between her shoulders.


	6. The Right Direction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all of you wonderful readers had an amazing holiday season!  
> I feels good to get back into the swing of things, now that everything has settled down.
> 
> Here's another chapter, for your enjoyment, hopefully!
> 
> I know this is a more slow-paced story, but it should be picking up rather soon!  
> At least, I hope.   
> -stares at muse accusingly-
> 
> xo.

* * *

"It's quite rude to spy, you know!" 

Her lilting voice startled Castiel, his body lurching forward slightly. The tree no longer shielded him from her views and he soon found himself under the warm gaze of the woman, mischief glowing in her eyes. Sucking in a breath, Castiel stepped further out into the small clearing, his grip on his bag tightening in one hand, the other remaining loose at his side. It shifted to his opposing forearm and pinched at the skin there, startling him into the realization that he wasn't dreaming. The figure standing before him was real, as were the fluttering wings seemingly attached to her back. Amusement twitched at her lips and Castiel felt his own pulling down into what Cain called his 'signature' frown. It was a look he wore quite often, if the clansman could be trusted to not overexaggerate. Castiel knew that they were right. The smile he'd worn as a child had long-since faded from him, replaced by a constant feeling of doubt that often sat upon his shoulders. 

Some of that doubt, however, was starting to loosen its hold. He pinched himself once more, for good measure, and watched as the woman's eyes followed the motion with curiosity replacing the amusement, one of her eyebrows rising up towards her hair. 

"Why'd you do that to yourself?" 

"… ex-excuse me?" 

"Why'd you pinch yourself? Doesn't that hurt you?" 

Castiel was baffled and found himself speaking to her, explaining, though he had no idea who this woman was or what she was doing in the middle of the Wildwood. "… my father told me to do it when I believe I'm dreaming. If I feel the pain, then it is real." 

"Quite a silly thing to teach a youngling, in my opinion." 

The hearty scoff from her may have offended a younger version of Castiel, but he was currently too stupefied by her presence to care. He approached slowly, as if afraid she might disappear into the trees themselves, before speaking directly to her with his own question. 

"Who are you?" 

The wings fluttered rapidly, to the point of almost lifting her dainty, bare feet from the ground. A proud smile adorned her lips and revealed her slightly sharp, white teeth. 

"Most call me Charlie!" 

"And... what, exactly -" 

"That's also rude," Charlie said immediately, her mood immediately shifting into something with a more dangerous undertone. Castiel tensed, straightening up, unsure of what had just transpired in their conversation. Confusion filled his features before he slowly took a half-step back. The only thing that kept him from turning on his heel and continuing his journey backwards being the words that left Charlie's mouth, rushed and apologetic. 

"I'm sorry! I should be better about that, by now. Fae are quite a prideful folk, though I'm assuming by the confused look on your face, that you didn't know I was fae at all. It's rude to ask anyone what they are, for future reference." 

Her words were quick and it took a moment for Castiel to grasp their understanding. Charlie was a fairy: a creature that Castiel had only heard more tales about than anything else. She was the living embodiment of something he never believed to exist. He was fascinated and terrified in the same instance, his body rigid where he stood and his grip tight along the strap of his pack. Before he could garner the confidence to speak, Charlie was approaching him, her wings fluttering at a pace that made them difficult to see. Castiel felt rooted to the spot as he caught sight of the flowers turning their heads in the direction Charlie was traveling, as if her very aura drew them in. He understood that pull, though he wasn't certain if what he was feeling was an influence of her fae nature or something completely different. 

"There's something... different, about you. What are you called? And what are you doing alone out here, in the Wildwood?" 

For the first time, Castiel saw concern on Charlie's features, and it drew him to speak the truth to her. 

"I'm Castiel, firstborn son of sovereign Novak, and I come from the Valley." 

" _Castiel_. What an interesting name. The Valley is quite far from here. Where are you headed?" 

It was with a start that Castiel realized the flaw of his journey, which had already plagued his conscious mind. Charlie seemed to notice, too, and her features softened as she looked up at him. Castiel noticed just how small she was as she took another step forward, putting less distance between them than Castiel was comfortable with. 

"It's a dangerous game to play – traveling with no destination." 

"I'm searching for a way to help my clan. The clouds have been hovering all season and nothing will grow. No rain will fall. No sun can come through." 

A darkness shadowed with sadness, that was what passed over Charlie's features. The fairy took a step back and inhaled, before she glanced over her shoulder towards the shadows cast by the tall trees. 

"Sounds as though you're looking for the Gods." 

If the question had been asked to him by someone other than a fairy, Castiel might have snorted at it. Even if the Gods and Goddesses existed, they were more like omnipotent beings. He'd never get the chance to meet them in a physical form, not unless they decided it to be. 

"I don't know who or what I'm looking for. I'm just trying to help my people." 

Charlie appraised him with a new glance, bringing Castiel to stand up a little straighter before letting his wariness settle in. He had no idea why he was conversing with a fairy woman, someone who could easily be tricking him in order to garner his favor. What if she needed something from him, something he could not provide? Many of the stories of the fae often involved them striking deals and making bargains. Granted, those stories were often followed by the fae not upholding their end of the bargain, or revealing their trickster nature in specific wording or tasks involved. Castiel didn't know if he could trust Charlie, but he didn't feel as though she had tried to trick him yet. 

Though... that could easily have been the hunger and the exhaustion talking. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Charlie straightened and gave him space, speaking with a renewed energy as she turned away and began to float above the grass towards the opposite end of the clearing. 

"I may be able to help you, or at least know someone who can. You probably need some food and rest, first. I can provide you with both of those things, if you'd follow me!" 

Her body stopped only when she seemed to notice Castiel wasn't trailing behind her, but instead standing where he had originally rooted himself, watching her with caution. The fairy rolled her eyes and huffed, quirking an eyebrow in his direction. 

"I don't bite, despite what you might have heard. But I do have some freshly picked fruits and a safe place to rest, if you allow me a little bit of trust." 

Castiel didn't think it over for too long. His options were minimal, at this point. He could follow Charlie and hope that she didn't attempt to trick him, or he could continue on his own with no means of direction in his journey. At least being with another could give him some kind of answers, if she was willing. 

His feet were carrying him ahead before his mind had made a firm conclusion, but he didn't speak. He merely followed Charlie into the trees, deeper into the forest, the flowers turning away behind them. 

"You're a quiet one. I like that." 

Castiel wasn't sure why Charlie enjoyed his silence, but he briefly thought about how he would have preferred the same. As they walked, however, Charlie continued to chatter on to him or the plants around them. 

If Charlie saw Castiel give himself another pinch, she didn't say anything about it.


	7. The Arrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully a longer chapter will help make up for my erratic posting schedule.  
> <3
> 
> xo.

* * *

Charlie lived in the hollow of a very large tree, her home partially formed amongst the roots below the ground. Castiel had assumed, for obvious reasons, that her home may be quite a dirty place. He was happy to be proven wrong, the burrow beneath the ground proving to be quite a cozy place with a natural warmth provided around them. He had quietly let her putter around him as he took it all in, her idle chatter falling into the background as he settled into a seated position on the floor, his possessions kept close. The fae woman settled many fruits upon the table in front of him – from the familiar form of apples to the unfamiliar sights of more gruesome looking pieces that surely couldn't taste good. His hunger had more motivation and no time to be skeptical; Castiel found himself enjoying everything that Charlie presented him with, quietly thanking her as the food settled heavily into his stomach. 

In a kind gesture, she even provided him with some tea to drink, water warmed over a fire that had to have magical origins to keep from burning the very roots that hung above it. Castiel wondered about the nature of this place as he sipped his tea, feeling his eyelids growing heavy. He was lulled to sleep by the warmth and the sounds of the crackling fire, darkness taking over like a thick blanket. 

By the time he woke, Castiel's gaze was bleary and his mind was sluggish. Where was he and what time was it? Had he fallen asleep in the Wildwood? He didn't recognize the feeling of the pillow beneath his head, nor the sensation of the blankets atop him. He also couldn't pair his nose to any familiar smells in the area, though the soft murmuring of voices was something he'd grown accustomed to hearing over the years. Castiel had often been slow to wake in the clan, which meant that he was often waking when many were already up and about, doing their daily chores. What pulled him to the conscious world was the fact that he _didn't_ recognize the tones of the voices that he was listening to. They sounded close, the words muffled by the low volume of their voices, as if they didn't want to disturb their slumbering guest – or they didn't want him listening in. 

Castiel couldn't help but remain still, keeping his deep breathing pace as he focused on what they were saying and tried his best to listen in. He realized quickly, and to much frustration, that he could only catch snippets of Charlie's familiar voice and a deeper, masculine tone. 

"… he could... answer, Samuel..." 

"… if we're wrong... disaster..." 

"… could ask Dean -" 

"No... stubborn ass..." 

Charlie's laughter was subdued, sprinkled in with their tones and lightening the frustration in the other voice. Castiel was practically holding his breath, as though it could help him to focus and listen better. 

"... arrow... look and see..." 

"… privacy, Charlotte." 

"… don't like... could ask..." 

"… sure about... Chosen One?" 

The pieces of conversation Castiel were picking up made no sense. Charlie was talking to a man named Samuel, that much he gathered. Another name was thrown into the mix: Dean. That meant nothing to him. There was some talking of an arrow, and his fingers naturally twitched beside him, his eyes cracking open to see where his bag had ended up. Someone had moved him to a makeshift bed and his bag, with all he possessed, was still settled by the table. It looked undisturbed, which sent a spike of relief through him. He couldn't quite trust the fae woman just yet. He'd only just met her, a creature of the Wildwood. It may have been ignorant of him, but Castiel had never been one to trust immediately in the past, and he knew his habits weren't likely to change now. 

"Oh! You've woken!" 

Blue eyes widened when he realized that Charlie noticed that he was shifting in the bed, his eyes finding her on a stool-like seat near the fire. Across from her was a man unlike anyone Castiel had ever seen. The first thing he noted was how comically large the man appeared in such a small place, his body naturally hunched to avoid knocking the crown upon his head against the root-adorned ceiling. His crown was unlike anything Castiel had experienced: antlers strung with mosses and lichen, glistening with the sparkling transparency of spider webs. Beneath the crown was a head of thick, brown hair that was twisted and pulled with braids of varying sizes. 

The man was tan, with hazel eyes large and warm. He wore a cloak colored with earthen tones of browns, greens, and even greys. Within the furs and materials were the occasional, glinting mineral, stones strung and hidden about. His clothes beneath his cloak were rather plain in comparison, but did not hide the strength the man possessed and the air that held steady around his person. He exuded a power Castiel didn't understand; it was a power that drew him in while simultaneously intimidating him, urging him to cast his gaze away. 

"Pardon for the intrusion. I had hoped to be gone before you had woken." 

The man's voice was warm and deep, welcoming. Castiel found himself sitting up without realizing it, the blanket falling from around his shoulders as he shook his head. His throat felt parched; he licked his chapped lips before he spoke and ran a hand through his unruly hair. 

"You don't have to apologize. I must have dozed off. I'm sorry, Charlie." 

"Don't worry, Castiel. I suspected you were tired from traveling so far." 

"Where do you hail from?" 

The formalness of the stranger – Samuel's – tone was foreign to Castiel. He held a cadence that wasn't something used in the Valley, coloring him curious almost immediately. He could also see the intelligence there, wisdom that hinted at many years in the making, yet this man couldn't have been very many years Castiel's senior. In fact, he figured they may have been around the same age. 

"The Valley." 

Something passed between the fae and the stranger, a look that held more weight than what Castiel was able to understand, in that moment. The smile on the man's face remained, though it seemed forced just around the edges, a detail that also put Castiel on edge, himself. 

"It's a lovely place, though I've not been in many seasons." 

Dark brows pulled together as Castiel squinted his gaze towards the man, taking in his appearance once again. He spoke in a strange dialect, as if the words he used weren't in a native tongue. The accent wasn't something Castiel was able to place; even with travelers coming through the Valley, he had never focused long enough to pin accents to regions. That was something Anna had been good at doing. 

"Oh, I've been rude! Castiel, this is Samuel. Samuel – as you now know, Castiel from the Valley." 

"Good greetings to you, Castiel of the Valley." 

"Nice to meet you, as well, Samuel." 

Humor from an unspoken joke crinkled the skin around Samuel's eyes before he turned them back onto Charlie, raising a brow in her direction. 

"Now, Charlie, back to the topic at hand. You requested my presence for aid?" 

"Not for me, Sam. For Castiel, here. He needs the Gods' help." 

Castiel had been rising from the bed as Charlie spoke, though he froze and brought his gaze to the large man sitting across from the fairy. He frowned before bringing himself back to the moment, approaching his bag to lift it up onto the table and search through its contents. 

"I've no idea how the Gods could help me. It's not as though they've helped much in the past." 

The grumbled words were met with a stiff silence, to which Castiel moved his gaze away from the arrowhead clutched in his palm and met the differing sets of eyes staring his way. Charlie's were shocked, wide with it, and flicked quickly from him to Samuel. Sam's warm hazel eyes had turned sad, the laugh lines dissipating. His smile waned as he shifted in his seat, adjusting his long limbs to plant his feet more firmly upon the ground. 

"Their aid is not always obvious, not even in the moment it occurs. And even with what power they might possess – the Gods and Goddesses have limitations unknown to most." 

"You sound like a cleric." 

Castiel's mouth opened, the words tumbling out before he had the chance to stop them. He was answered with a chuckle from the tall man, his hair waving as he shook his head. 

"Ah – a cleric, I am not." 

"Well, either way," Castiel muttered, feeling foolish. He had a strong urge to pinch himself again. He was in the company of a fairy woman and a strange man of the Wildwood. He was virtually trapped beneath the ground with them and who knew what would come of him? He'd hardly made it anywhere in his journey; how tragic and useless would he be, should it end so soon? 

Frustration drew him to push some items from his bag, searching for a fresh shirt to put on. He pulled out a few small sacks and set them aside, his pair of spare trousers, and some rations. As he removed his tunic, his arrowhead rolled onto the table, glistening in the cast light of the fire. It almost seemed to glow with an energy Castiel had never seen before, causing him to tilt his head before he reached out and took it carefully. 

"You _do_ possess the Arrow! See? I told you, Samuel!" 

Charlie's voice crowed near him, startling Castiel to look towards the pair. Samuel looked stunned for a moment, but Castiel could see the ideas in his mind swirling. 

"How did you come to possess that Arrow?" 

"This?" Castiel held it out, watching as the two nodded with a vigorous, renewed energy. He looked down at it in his palm, running a finger over the smooth nature of the stone. "I found it at the edge of the Wildwood when I was young. I've had it ever since." 

"You're sure no one gave it to you? That _you_ were the one to discover it?" 

Samuel's interrogating questions drew Castiel's gaze once more, the seriousness on his features a vast difference from the warmth that had been there previously. Nodding in affirmation, Charlie squealed and clapped her hands together. 

"I'm afraid I'm confused: what does my arrowhead have anything to do with why I'm here?" 

Charlie's golden wings fluttered, blurred with their speed, as Samuel answered his question with a small smile on his lips. 

"It means, Castiel, that I'm meant to help you. And you're meant to help me, along with the rest of the Gods and Goddesses."


	8. The Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's still here, thanks for your patience!
> 
> xo.

* * *

_The Stone was a powerful piece of Earth, having been placed in the second tower of his kingdom by Sam himself during one of the celestial celebrations. It had been a gift to him, long ago, with a described purpose of being an area where Dean could 'find peace amongst the chaos' - the words of his brother, of course. He would never admit to a smug Samuel that the purpose had rung true more often than not, especially since he'd lost his sight. When he felt off-balance with the world, or his senses were overwhelmed, he found himself ascending the familiar stairs into the second tower. He felt the wind being harbored by the ruined walls and the presence of the Stone was heavy in the middle of the space. Here, Dean stripped to the bare essentials of his traditional garb, leaving his fur and leather boots by the entrance, along with his cloak of dark furs and feathers. Despite the chill, he removed his tunic, and set it beside his boots, the settled chill in the air nipping at his exposed flesh._

_He could feel the present moisture pulling at his skin, drawing goosebumps along his arms and shoulders, making peaks of the golden freckles that adorned him. His unseeing eyes led him to the Stone, its firm position ever inviting as he pushed himself up to the smooth surface at the top and sat. His legs dangled at first as he took a few deep breaths, trying to center himself as best as he could as the winds howled around him. They called to him, uncontrolled, and he yearned to bring them some semblance of purpose once more. Without his staff, however, he was practically useless._

_Anger burned within him and he tamped it, taking another deep breath of the biting chill the mountains brought to him. He shifted his legs, still harboring warmth with their coverings, and crossed them in front of his body. He straightened his back and let his body settle against the Stone, his hands resting calmly upon his knees. He closed his unseeing eyes and focused, allowing his mind to listen to the winds around them, to the steady stream of air flowing in and out of his own body, fueling it. The wind was an amazing driving force and without it, many suffered. Dean knew it to be true, knew that without his staff there were people in many realms beginning to waste away beneath torrential rainstorms or from a lack of harvest, clouds refusing to move from their stubborn spots. The opposite was also true: clouds never coming, never giving the land a break from the intensity of the burning sun, scorching the ground and giving the living beings upon it no reprieve._

_It was all Dean's fault._

_If he'd been stronger, he could have won the battle against Gabriel and stripped him of his abilities. If he'd been wiser, he would have spotted the changes in Gabriel before any of this had ever come to pass. If he had simply given more attention to the demi-god, maybe he wouldn't have felt the need to betray them like this. Dean had not been on the side of Gabriel in many conversations, only to be swayed by the overwhelming majority. It had always seemed that Dean was against the overbearing and jovial nature of the man, standing alone in protests against him. If he had given Gabriel more chances... tried to understand better... maybe none of this would be happening._

_Dean often cried upon the Stone._

_The feeling of tears coursing from his unseeing eyes was a familiar one nowadays. He never cried around his scant number of visitors – even Charlie, who often stood guard for him, never noticed. He came to the Stone and allowed himself to become overwhelmed with whatever motions he'd been battling in the recent days. Guilt wore at him from all sides; anger tore away at anything remaining. It blinded him emotionally and left him withdrawn, a husk of the man he used to be. He knew that Charlie and Sam had meant well when they'd come to him, speaking of the Chosen One who could save them all, but he found it hard to believe in such a prophecy. The last one hadn't gone over so well, after all, so how could he believe that a 'Child born from a leader of Man would find the Arrow of Light, to bring down the Darkness and set everything Right'? Even the rhyme seemed to douse the believability for the God of the Wind and Sky._

_How had he been so stupid?_

_Time passed swiftly whenever Dean found himself upon the Stone. He kept his position and focus, letting an array of emotions surge through him. He pushed them to the Stone, let them meet the resistance there and slowly seep away. He let the occasional gust of wind that fought against the patterns of others cleanse him, brushing against his physical form and renewing energy inside of him._

_It was on a gust that he caught the sound of something: a message._

_It was common practice for the Gods and Goddesses to communicate with him in such ways, in the past. Now that his staff was gone and therefore, his control, it was a risky way to try and send any messages of import. Yet, Samuel seemed to be the only one willing to try. This time, the message came in clearly, just a whisper upon Dean's sensitive ears that gave him a dangerous surge of hope deep within his chest._

_"The Chosen One is here, Dean. He's here to help. We are bringing him to you. We can stop Gabriel. Wait for us, brother."_

_Dean rose from the Stone and slipped onto the ground with ease, his steps light as always. He clothed himself by the entrance and descended the second tower, mulling over his words as he let his feet carry him to his chambers, to his study._

_If the Chosen One truly existed – he knew his brother not to be one to jest about such things – then he had to prepare. Their mission wouldn't be an easy one._

* * *


	9. The Flatland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeesh, another month passed me by and I didn't get a chapter out for this story.  
> I'm truly sorry to anyone who's still here for the ride.  
> Slowly but surely, things are going to pick up. I promise. 
> 
> Thanks for being here.  
> xo.

* * *

They had left Charlie's home in a whirlwind, the fae in fast chatter with Samuel as they ascended above ground, Castiel slow to catch them. They had hardly noticed once they got to talking, and Castiel had taken the opportunity to change his clothes into something fresher before slinging his pack back on and tucking his arrowhead back over his head and beneath the comfort if his tunic. It warmed him right above his heart for a moment, though the feeling dissipated as he jumped to his feet once more and followed the two strangers out of Charlie's hollow home. He found them standing at the entrance, Charlie speaking with animated hand gestures and Samuel standing with his arms crossed over his broad chest. Blinking, Castiel's bright blue eyes fell onto the pair and he stood there, awkwardly, his mind still racing about the words that Samuel had spoken to him, words he didn't get to even question before the others had fallen into conversation. 

"When... when you said that I'm meant to help you, along with the rest of the Gods and Goddesses... you implied - " 

"That I'm a God, of course." 

Castiel was still as stone, his breath held in his chest as he stared at the mountain of a man before him. The appearance suddenly made sense to him; the dialect of his words and even the tone of his voice held a confidence cadence that Castiel had never heard before. Even though Castiel was certain he'd _never_ met a God or Goddess, somehow it made sense to know that Samuel was one. It was as if the knowledge merely clicked into place in Castiel's mind, replacing his stronghold of doubt in the higher beings with the absolute truth of their existence. 

Castiel owed Cain an apology. 

"A... A God?" 

He hated that his voice cracked before he could get more than a syllable out. It brought Samuel to chuckle and Charlie to grin at his side, comically shorter than the God. Samuel nodded in confirmation, his eyes sparkling with the amusement of his fumbling, but Castiel could see more beyond that initial gaze. There was a lot of wisdom there, and as his father once told him: wisdom is often accompanied by pain. And if Castiel was reading the God right... pain was a heavy influence in the undertones of that gaze, those hazel eyes. 

"Yes. The God of the Forest, to keep my given title general." 

Castiel was speaking to the God of the Forest, Samuel. He'd heard stories and generational tales of the various gods, but they had never come to mean truth to the young man. Shaking his head away from the minor details, a frown creased his brows heavily as he glanced between Samuel and Charlie, watching them carefully. He wracked over the words Samuel had spoken before, bringing up another point that he felt needed addressing. 

"You say I'm... to help you, along with the other Gods and Goddesses... but what could I possibly help you with?" What task would be too great for the Gods and Goddesses to handle on their own? He was simply a mortal, the son of a sovereign from the Valley. 

Castiel caught a flitting bit of nervousness moving over Charlie's features that echoed in the rapid movement of her wings, causing them to be more erratic than they had been so far. She looked up towards the face of the God, who was watching Castiel carefully and keeping his features rather... neutral. Castiel wasn't sure that was a good sign of what was to come next. 

"I'm not certain that is a conversation to have in such an open space. There is much to discuss and we are missing a member of the party to discuss with." 

"You think Dean will be alright with bringing Castiel to _Skye_?" 

"No, Charlotte. That is why we are not traveling to _Skye_. Dean will be meeting us at _Flatland._ " 

Castiel's mind swirled around this information, picking out certain words he recognized and clinging to them. _Skye_ was the name of the mountain on which the God of the Wind and Sky resided: Dean. That was one of the few tales that Castiel cared to remember, the stories of the God of the Wind and Sky often filled with dangerous tasks and selfless actions. Many people revered the God of the Wind and Sky, but more often than not, Castiel found that he was not the favorite of many. He was more of a rogue God to many; plenty of people did not understand his true purpose and how he helped them in his direct and indirect manners. Castiel had always understood the purpose of him, and he liked to believe that if there had been any God or Goddess that helped him to maintain just a little bit of faith, it would have been Dean. 

Not that he would admit that now, in front of a completely different God. 

The word _Flatland_ also caught his attention. There were other names for the place: _the Plain, the Prairie, the Empty Meadow_. Each story gave it a different title, but everyone understood its meaning and purpose all the same. The _Flatland_ was meant to be a place no human inhabited. It was tinged with energy from the Gods and Goddesses themselves; it was said that human beings could not even step into the boundary it held, always being redirected without realizing it. The magic of the Gods kept it away from the naked eye and neutral in terms of battle. It was a place of peace, if one could ever truly exist, where rules were upheld and obeyed by even the highest of powers.

* * *

The trio had started moving swiftly through the trees, occasional chatter filling the air around them, though it was mostly between Charlie and Samuel. Castiel was naturally rather quiet and observant, so it didn't bother him to just listen to their banter, their light-hearted conversation. He had a feeling that it was more of a conversation to keep the mood from getting heavy while he was around. He had yet to figure out what his role would be in helping the Gods and Goddesses; Samuel hadn't answered that question, after all, and Castiel was practically itching to know. His natural curiosity burned in his veins as he followed the odd pairing, blinking in surprise as he realized that the thick trees of the Wildwood were beginning to thin around them. 

"Are we... have we arrived already?" 

It was possibly the first time he'd spoken in hours, though it didn't feel like so much time had passed. Charlie looked towards him and winked, her wings fluttering rapidly behind her and blurring together. 

"Traveling with the Gods does have its perks." 

"I would say that journey for someone such as yourself would have taken a week, at most." 

"Maybe five days, if you had not stopped to rest often." 

The words stunned Castiel into silence, his mind whirring once more as he took in the knowledge that traveling with a God meant they moved against nature and time itself. He supposed he should have expected something like that, but he'd been a non-believer merely hours ago. It was hard to wrap his mind around everything that was going on. He'd pinched himself a few times – in the privacy of his position behind the others – just to make sure he hadn't fallen asleep or ended up unconscious somehow. 

They emerged from the thinning line of trees and were met by tall, unkempt grass. It seemed thick and arduous to penetrate, causing Castiel to look at the stagnant strands curiously. 

"We have to go through there?" 

Samuel blinked and chuckled quietly, amused at something that Castiel didn't quite understand. The man wasn't used to that, and he scrubbed at the scruff along his jaw with a fervent hand. 

"I will help you to see, Castiel. And then you will know where we truly are." 

Samuel's great hand fell upon his shoulder, squeezing lightly but in a way that still conveyed his strength. His other hand did the same to Charlie, and for a moment... the world blurred before his very eyes. He couldn't stop the gasp that lifted from his lips, nor his feet from stepping forward, as if propelled by an unseen force. Samuel was guiding him and Charlie through the blur, through the thick weeds he could not feel, through a barrier he'd not known before. 

Castiel was not sure when he'd closed his eyes, but when he opened them, they were transported. His eyes were met with vast openness: a blue sky that didn't end and brown earth that reached to meet it far in the distance, though he knew they never intersected. The enormity of the place overwhelmed him for a moment and he gasped, his hands reaching down to clutch at his knees as a sense of strange dizziness took over him. 

"Castiel... Castiel, are you alright?" 

The voice of Charlie was faint as the feeling of her hand upon his shoulder. It was hard to focus on her speaking when he felt like the world was stretching with the impending promise of collapsing in on him. 

"Give him a moment, Charlotte. Let him orient. He is but a human, after all. I'm sure the sensations are overwhelming." 

The pair were silent as the world became less pressing and Castiel could fill his lungs again. He took deep, slow breaths, and his hands shook less as he straightened up at the waist. Blinking, he took it in again, though it felt less... stilted, than before. He reached up to rub at the flesh beneath his arrowhead necklace, the stone warmer than it had ever been before. It was almost uncomfortable to feel against his skin, but he kept it hidden for a reason he couldn't quite understand. The importance of it made him feel protective of the small stone. The arrowhead was significant in some way and that made Castiel feel as though he should protect it, even if he didn't know why. 

"I'm alright. I'm sorry." 

"So long as you are well, Castiel. We can now approach the table." 

In the distance was a small prick of a dark spot, something Castiel noticed now that he was capable of focus. They moved forward just as they had before, though this place's magical influence seemed to seep into their steps and they approached a great, shining stone slab in mere moments. It was as if the ground had shifted before them, disappearing and eating the distance. Castiel lost his equilibrium again and found himself gripping the edge of the cool stone, taking a slow breath as Charlie appeared at his side once more. 

"You'll get used to it, Castiel. The motions of their magic take time for the mind to process. But the more it happens, the easier it will become. Sit, if you need to." 

She eased him into his seat and he couldn't help but feel incredibly miniscule once again. He was a mortal man in a world of Gods and Goddesses. 

Why was he here?


	10. Eileen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, it takes me a month to bust out chapters on either of my stories.  
> Sorry I suck so much, you guys!  
> Hopefully this chapter makes up for it, though I understand if it doesn't.
> 
> Thank you to all of you who are still here and supporting this random work of mine. I appreciate you all. <3
> 
> xo.

* * *

There were no birds here. 

It was one of the first things that Castiel noticed when his mind got settled and the world stopped tilting to the side. The sounds of nature he'd been surrounded by in the Valley, in the Wildwood... none of them seemed present in this place. It put a pressure on his ears; it was something he had never experienced before. Working his jaw, it clicked and the pressure relieved slowly, yet there was still no sound to be heard. There was no breeze brushing against his skin, no animals shifting through the grass. The sun was high in the sky and Castiel looked up towards it towards the impossible expanse of blue. He blinked slowly and glanced to his left, where the end of the stone table was and the empty seats stood unoccupied. The only sound to be heard was his heartbeat in his ears and the soft sounds of Samuel and Charlie speaking to one another on the other side of him. A dark pinprick appeared in Castiel's vision a moment after it cleared, causing him to squint and try to take it in. It was stark against the blue and brown, an obvious silhouette that was moving towards the table at a speed that boggled Castiel's mind. 

It was only moments later that the features of a man became visible to him, features that took Castiel's breath away. He'd seen many beautiful sights: sunrises and sunsets, the green of grass after a fresh rain, the crack of summer lightning across an empty sky. He'd seen baby birds hatching from nests and rabbits scampering after their mother amongst the spring flowers. Nothing compared to the vision that was the man swiftly approaching the table where the trio were gathered. 

His cloaks billowed behind him, shades of dark blues and greys, moving even without the presence of wind. The sheer propulsion of his movement must have been the cause, Castiel surmised. He watched as the man's features became clearer the closer he came. He wore a long, single-piece tunic that appeared to be made of some kind of hide that draped down to his knees. He carried himself with confidence on a pair of bowed legs that were thick with lean muscle. A corded belt littered with various feathers was strung about his hips and a deep cut in the throat of his tunic revealed a bare triangle of tanned, freckled chest. His jaw was hard and clenched, his hair short and dusky blond, spiked as if powered by lightning itself. Truly, though, what held Castiel's gaze to the point of becoming rude were his eyes: milky white with a tinge of seafoam green tinged around the edges. It was stark, startling to see such a vast difference between the warmth of his tanned skin and golden flecks of freckles. They were pits of bitter, snowy cold that mirrored the tension he seemed to carry with him as he approached the table and stopped just short of it, his fingertips reaching out to brush it briefly, as if to affirm he'd come to the right place. 

"Dean, my brother, you are just in time." 

"Sam – it's safe to say Charlie is still with you, then?" 

"Yes, I'm here!" 

"And the mortal, he's here, as well?" 

Castiel snapped from his reverie – his eyes having wandered to the interesting diadem worn around the God's head – and he glanced towards the two sets of eyes actually looking his way. He cleared his throat and straightened where he sat upon the stone stool, firmly nodding to add conviction to his voice even as it shook slightly. 

"Y-Yes, I'm here. Castiel." 

"What?" 

Dean looked confused for a moment, his brows furrowing as Samuel rolled his eyes and took his seat across the table from Castiel, where he would sit beside Dean should the God decide to take his place. 

"Castiel, that is the mortal's name, Dean. He was introducing himself, brother." 

A look that Castiel couldn't give a name to passed over Dean's face as he gracefully sat upon the stool to his left, grumbling out a response. 

"I'm Dean -" 

" - God of the Wind and Sky!" 

Charlie finished his formal title with a pleased chirp, her wings fluttering as she took her spot perched on the edge of the table instead of finding a stool to occupy. 

"I know of you," Castiel responded swiftly, shrugging his shoulders for a moment before he turned his gaze back towards the surly God, who had locked his own milky gaze on Castiel's face. 

"Oh? And what do you assume to know of me, mortal Castiel?" 

The bite in his words brought Castiel up short and simmered anger in his gut. He'd hardly said a thing to the God and he was only proving to be as arrogant as some claimed the Gods to be. He was vastly different from Samuel, who was casting his brother a disapproving gaze. He opened his mouth, only to be cut off from Castiel who kept his gaze on Dean's, his voice flat in his retort. 

"I know that I certainly didn't assume the God of the Wind and Sky would come across as one of the rude ones." 

The stunned silence that fell was broken by Dean's own laughter, which stunned Castiel into watching him with a dumbfounded expression. He should have feared insulting a God, but he hadn't. And even when the words had left his mouth, he had feared a consequence more than the initial response... yet, Dean was laughing. He threw his head back and his body shook with it, the entire action brightening the mood surrounding him almost instantaneously. 

"Then you've heard the good things about me, Castiel. That works in my favor, at the very least." 

"Dean. Can we get to business, please?" Samuel interrupted with a grunt of disdain. Seriousness passed over Dean's features and the heavy nature of their topic seemed to settle around them. 

"I suppose so, Sam. What news do you have of Gabriel's movements?" 

"Well, I last heard that he was spotted somewhere near the South Sea, moving among the cities in the dunes. He has been out of the light for a long time; this is the first word I've heard of him cropping up anywhere." 

Charlie was the one speaking now, sounding slightly disappointed, though Castiel suspected that it was in herself. She seemed to have some kind of role amongst these Gods for gathering information. She knew of the arrowhead, after all, and she knew the purpose that brought Castiel to possess it... a role that Castiel wasn't even sure of, at this point. 

"The South Sea? You do not think..." 

"Sam. It would be safe to assume. We need to think of the worst scenario and prepare for it. Gabriel's movements have suggested that he would not stop. If he is gathering relics like we believe -" 

" - she _is_ the closest to that range -" 

" - we have to stop him before he gets it, before he sends the world into further chaos than it already is!" 

Their voices began to rise in pitch and Castiel struggled to keep up, unsure of what the group was even talking about. He cleared his voice and all heads turned to him as he adjusted in his seat, rather uncomfortable with having all attention centered upon him. 

"I'm sorry... but who is Gabriel and what is he taking? Where is the South Sea?" 

Samuel's features softened while Dean's echoed his scoff into physical form, his voice low as he mumbled something about an _'insignificant mortal'_ and Samuel clearly ignored him while Charlie sent Dean a glare. 

"Gabriel is a demi-god running amok amongst the Gods and Goddesses," Samuel explained, exasperation filling his features. Castiel had a feeling that Samuel had to mull over this 'Gabriel' for quite some time now. "He's not who he used to be; something has changed within him. He turned against us, our friend, and he stole Dean's staff – his relic." 

Castiel's head turned to look towards the God in question, who was quiet and sulking, a dark look on his features that marred the natural beauty he had possessed. Dark brows pressed together as he spoke once more, another question on his lips. 

"What is a relic?" 

"Do mortals not talk of the relics?" Charlie asked, curiosity blooming in her voice as her wings began to flutter in a rapid pattern. "Relics are what harness and control the powers of the Gods. Without a relic, the God or Goddess loses their ability of control..." 

"So without his staff -" 

" - I'm a useless immortal with no purpose." 

The words fell like heavy stones between them and drew their attention, anger cracking Dean's words. Charlie's features were pinched with sympathy while Samuel spoke instantly, his own tone harsh as he slammed a heavy palm onto the table. 

"Brother, you know that is not the truth. We will find your staff and restore your sight, your power. We will find Gabriel with Castiel's help and put an... end... to this..." 

The Forest God's voice had been filled with conviction but it started to die as the four looked around in confusion, something in the air shifting. Castiel couldn't explain it, but the change brought about a feeling of dread that crawled clammy over his flesh and caused him to shudder in place. 

Samuel sucked in a sharp breath and his hand gripped the table, his eyes wide and almost as unseeing as his brother's. 

"Sam? Sam, what is happening? What has altered?" 

"Sam?!" 

Dean and Charlie spoke in unison, their voices snapping out as a high pitched _wail_ could be heard echoing like a spirit across the sky. Sam's answer was a soft breath, riddled with pain and a suffering that brought tears to his eyes. His words might hold no meaning to Castiel – at least, not at first – but the tone of his voice was dire. 

"Eileen. He found her."


	11. Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that was a dozy of a chapter to get out.
> 
> Sorry that it took so long, you guys! I've been in the (long) process of moving, so writing hasn't been in the forefront of my mind.  
> Forgive me?
> 
> xo.
> 
> * * *

"Now that was almost too easy, right Gabriel?" 

There was silence from the demi-God as he stood, unmoving from his position on the dark stone below. His figure was taut, the muscles strained to their maximum as his eyes glanced ahead, unseeing. What used to be lustrous blond hair was now limp and dirty; there were only similarities present in the wings adorned to his back. The once golden-hued feathers were dank and tinged with grime. Water still dampened his clothes and flesh, dripping occasionally onto the floor below him. His fingers twitched at his side and that was the only response given to the man above, the one speaking and twirling a length of plain-looking rope in one arm. The other hand was where his attention was drawn: a pendant, pulsing with cool blue light, rested in his palm. 

"It was an excellent idea to give you your mind back for just the right moment... just the right amount of time, was it not?" 

A chuckle echoed in the underground cavern and with a sweep of his dark cloaks, a figure emerged from what seemed to be the shadows themselves and brought himself into the dim light. He stood taller than Gabriel and his handsome face was twisted into a satisfied grin. Bright eyes, alert with dangerous intelligence, watched the demi-God as he stayed where he was, unresponsive as Lucifer preferred. 

"Right, I certainly agree. That moment of weakness and confusion brought Eileen out instantly. I'm sure it helped that you two have quite the... history, am I correct?" 

Lucifer's eyes shifted to watch the twitch of Gabriel's fingers once more, bringing his smile to turn into a grin. Toying with the demi-God had been so easy, so _fun_ , and the perfect way to initiate his plans. 

"I do not know why the Gods ever trusted you in the first place. Who were you, before them? Some ridiculous mortal who had a bad night at sea? You saved a few lives and -" Lucifer waved his hand in a circular motion, almost bored with his own story "- poof! They grant you godlike ability." Lucifer tsks softly as he descends down to Gabriel's level on a blanket of pure shadow, landing without a sound and towering over the demi-God as Lucifer touched his shoulder and shoved him into a kneeling position. There was little resistance there, and the satisfaction was reflected on the God's handsome face. 

"Well... I suppose everything has a caveat, though, hmm?" 

Laughter echoed around them from the darkest corners of the cavern as Lucifer dangled the rope right in front of Gabriel's unseeing eyes. He held it in both hands then, feeling over it with delicate fingers, tugging it softly between both of his palms and watching Gabriel's figure squirm as a result. "You're essentially useless without this little bit of rope, right? Your very own relic!" 

A scoff came from Lucifer then as he fished the rope back through his own cloak, his handsome features twisted into a sort-of scowl as he glared towards the demi-God. He bent at the waist to lean in close to Gabriel's ear, his whisper soft and sweet, while the palm holding the glowing pendant touched against the opposite cheek. "You don't deserve a relic. You're merely a pawn for them, for us, Gabriel, don't you see? You became enamored with the idea of this kind of power and fell prey to it. You're nothing more than a plaything, a man not quite mortal... but not a God, either." 

There was a tremor just beneath Gabriel's skin and Lucifer pulled away with a smile, snapping his fingers and causing the pendant to disappear into a cloud of dark smoke. A sigh left him as he spoke, his voice gentle and deceptively caring. 

"None of that matters now, Gabriel. After you aid me with my mission, I will give you all of the power you could ever desire. You can rule beside me; you can help me to set the world back into its rightful place." 

As Lucifer spoke, his body turned, and he missed the moment a tear escaped to slide down Gabriel's cheek.

* * *

"Where are we going?" 

Everyone had set into motion so quickly that Castiel hardly had the time to keep up. Both Gods and Charlie had risen from where they were and already walking at a brisk pace across the Flatland. Castiel instinctively wanted to close his eyes against the jarring experience, but he knew better than to do that, lest he trip and make a fool out of himself. He spoke aloud, but received no immediate answer as Samuel and Charlie were much further in front of him than even Dean, who was merely a few paces. The God stopped as Castiel spoke, as if realizing that he was still there, and turned his head to speak over his shoulder. 

"The South Sea. Gabriel was there and has taken another relic." 

Dean's words were harsh and clipped as he strode ahead, only coming to a stop at the edge of the Flatland where Samuel and Charlie were conversing loudly. 

" - it's the best way to -" 

" - maybe we should be more careful -" 

" - we _have_ to get to her!" 

"Sam," Dean clipped out, causing both to stop their heated argument and look towards the blind God just as Castiel approached at his side. The mortal man looked upon the God of the Forest and saw him the most unkempt he'd seen him so far. His expression was broken into something strained and something furious, his body rigid and his fingers twitching at his sides. His eyes narrowed towards Dean before he evidently remembered that the other man couldn't see him, but it didn't matter as Dean continued to speak and eased some of the tension. 

" - I may be blind, but I can still feel your glare, brother. Charlie is right; we should be careful. Unearthing this group to the South Sea could prove to walk us right into a trap. Without my staff, I cannot aid in our travel, so Charlie is our best bet. I know it is not the most desired method..." Dean trailed off and sent a sideways glance towards the direction Castiel was standing, causing the man to look at the others with confusion before the God started speaking again. " … but It's the only choice we have without merely walking." 

"It's dangerous," Samuel snapped, glancing towards Castiel and back to his brother. "Dean, be reasonable. Even for the Gods to travel this way could be harmful -" 

" - you're worried about the mortal at a time like this?" 

Samuel practically growled his frustration towards Dean. His warm eyes narrowed and Castiel stiffened with the notion that something bad was going to be happening. As Samuel spoke, however, it was with a tone of exasperation towards his brother, something Castiel recognized because it was a tone he often shared when speaking with Anna. 

"Of course, Dean. You may not hold much on prophecies... but the rest of us do. Castiel is important. We need him safe." 

Samuel had the decency to send him a smile, though Castiel wasn't sure if it was as comforting as he had been going for. He didn't reciprocate and didn't really have time to as both Gods turned towards Charlie, whose wings were fluttering with anticipation. 

"So we'll go my way, then! Excellent! You both know the drill, but Cas, you're new here. What's going to happen is that I'm going to transport us to the South Sea. It can be... a bit dangerous, I'm not going to lie to you, but if you are protected by the Gods, you should be fine." 

"What do you mean by dangerous?" Castiel's unease came through his words, despite how much he tried to hold it back. His hand subconsciously tightened around the strap of his bag. 

"She means that, if the worst possible outcome occurs, you'll die as we reach the South Sea," Dean explained bluntly in a way that caused Castiel to whip his head around and stare at the blind God. The way he spoke indicated that he didn't care either way, but Samuel reassured Castiel with a roll of his eyes and a semi-encouraging smile that didn't quite meet the mark. 

"It's a rare possibility and Charlie is a very skilled fae, Castiel. You've nothing to worry about. Now, Dean, if you'll -" 

" - me?!" 

Sam sidled his brother with the full force of a glare that would have made Castiel blanche, but lost its merit on the God who couldn't see. He spoke through gritted teeth. "Dean, please. Just keep Castiel close and safe, I'll stick with Charlie, and we can get to Eileen instead of standing in the Flatland bickering about it." Sam's words were snapped orders that brooked no kind of argument, though Castiel could sense the tension in Dean that revealed he would rather argue than concede. 

So, it was surprising when Dean stepped close to Castiel, so close that their bodies were pressing together and the God wrapped his arms around his shoulders. 

"Wrap around me," he ordered with a grunt, and Castiel complied with wrapping his arms around his torso. It took all of Castiel's focus not to take deep breaths of Dean's airy scent, not to look up and stare at the God's handsome face. A warmth suffused his figure and he fought against it, unsure what it meant but knowing he didn't have the time to worry about it. He remained still as the taller figure of Samuel approached behind him and wrapped his arms around them both, his palms coming to rest behind Dean's back. Castiel was sandwiched between the brothers and Charlie approached from the outside, her entire figure glowing with a warm light as she spoke words in a language he could not understand. 

Then, she reached out with both hands and touched the Gods' arms, and everything _shifted_.

* * *

Castiel opened his eyes when he felt warmth and tasted salt in the air. He gasped for breath and trembled, feeling the body behind him shifting away and the one in front of him still holding on. He was surprised to glance up and see Dean looking down towards him, brows creased together as his arms remained firm in their position. He looked as though he was concentrating on something, but Castiel had no idea what that could possibly be. 

"Are you alright, mortal?" 

The words were spoken in a hushed tone and it was then that Castiel realized his ears were ringing. He winced and shook his head, opening his jaw to pop them and take in the sounds surrounding them. The sound of water against the shore; birds flying above them in the strikingly bright blue sky. 

"Uh... yes, I'm fine." 

"Good." 

Dean unceremoniously dropped his arms and Castiel dropped, too. He had been lifted an inch or two off of the ground, so he stumbled as his feet hit the sand below. He turned to catch a glimpse of what he assumed was the South Sea... and it was beautiful. The water was as endless as the glowing golden sand. The steady sound of the waves lapping against the shore was rhythmical and calming in a way he'd never known. The best comparison he could make was laying in the tall grasses and listening to the wind blow through them in the springtime. His heart ached a little as he thought of the Valley, the place he'd called home. It ached not for the nostalgia and familiarity, but because he realized how much he didn't miss that place. It ached for all he had grown up missing, all he had not seen of this world, because of the traditions and rules placed upon him. 

He took in the sights for a moment longer before turning his head and seeing the trio already moving swiftly across the sands, causing him to sprint to catch up to them. 

"Eileen! Eileen!" 

Samuel was bellowing out his calls to a figure sitting atop a precarious set of smooth rocks jutting out over the ocean. The beach on this stretch was rockier than where they had landed and Castiel looked back to realize that they had walked very far, only to remember that traveling with the Gods seemed to defy distance. He returned his gaze to the rocks, seeing them up close and lifting his head to catch sight of a beautiful woman sitting atop them. Her dark hair was twisted and braided with white bits of shell that glinted in the sunlight. Her body was hunched slightly, clothes a torn mess about her figure as she stared out over the ocean in front of her. 

From below, even Castiel could see the tears glinting from her cheeks. 

"Eileen?!" 

Sam spoke softer this time, realizing that she wasn't responding to his calls of her name. Dean sucked in a breath sharply and then let it out, speaking in a whisper to his brother. 

"Go to her." 

The words were strained as Samuel easily made his way up the rock formation, as if it were familiar. Castiel could see his mouth moving from below, but Eileen wasn't responding or showing that she heard him in the slightest. 

"What's... what's happening?" 

He couldn't stop himself from speaking, watching as Charlie's face pinched with pain. Samuel was approaching her closer now, and he wasn't speaking. He knelt down beside Eileen and touched her with a hand so gentle that Castiel immediately knew it to be familiar, too. The woman started, practically jumping in place as she turned to glance at the man beside her. It took only a moment to recognize him before she was throwing herself into his arms, embracing him as she trembled and shook. Castiel's heart ached as he watched the exchange, Charlie narrating the moment for the remaining two to hear. 

"Her relic is gone... and it seems, with it missing, she's lost the ability to hear... just as Dean lost his ability to see..." 

The currents along the shore lapped in a steady pace as the three watched from the ground, the two figures atop the rocks clinging to one another as an unsteady breeze whipped around them.


	12. Mortal Cas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone -
> 
> I'm so sorry I've been so absent. I moved, I traveled, I've been working my ass off in some horrible heat. My muse has been a flighty thing and writing this chapter was... tough. I'm not very proud of it, so if you wanna gimme shit in the comments, please feel free.
> 
> I told myself I'd finish this story, though, no matter what. So I'm on my way, one chapter closer!
> 
> Thanks to all who've stuck it out so far. Sorry for being such a shitty author.  
> Much love.
> 
> xo.

* * *

“How am I supposed to help you?” 

The words came out and were almost lost on a whip of wind that ruffled Castiel’s dark hair. He came to a halt next to the God who was sitting in the sand, staring into the nothingness provided by his milky eyes. It took a long moment for Castiel to pull his eyes from the handsome man, avoiding how the breeze pestered the short hairs around his ears and how the sun reflected against the soft specks of freckles along the bridge of his nose. It was a distraction that he couldn’t afford, not when he apparently was to be helping with the lives of people he didn’t believe existed mere days ago. 

He had laughed at the very idea of Gods and Goddesses controlling the lives of mortals, influencing the very world around them. He had never believed in creatures that lived in the wood, those who knew powerful magic and played pranks upon humans. He had spent days and nights daydreaming while his father and Cain had rained their words of belief upon those in the Valley. 

He was standing beside a blind God, watching the tic in his jaw as he clenched his teeth for possibly the hundredth time since he’d taken a seat in the sand. He was actively avoiding the sight of a larger God sitting beside a broken Goddess, knowing he was whispering unheard nothings into her ears as they stared out over a desolately ragged sea. Charlie was off behind them, having called for privacy as she worked light magic between her fingers, murmuring to herself in a language Castiel couldn’t understand. It was between all of these seemingly powerful beings that Castiel felt as though he had to help in any way he was able. They had said he was chosen; they spoke of a prophecy. Even with their endless influence and power, being Gods and Goddesses, they could find themselves just as lost as mortals. 

“What?” 

Castiel was drawn back to the sound of Dean’s voice, which was rough and easily carried on the wind as he kept his eyes trained before him. He lowered himself to also sit in the sand, feeling it through his fingers and wondering about the strange texture of it all. He spoke again, repeating himself: “How am I supposed to help you?” He turned his gaze once more to Dean, away from the tantalizing sand beneath his palms, and saw that the God was shaking his head. 

“I’m not sure you can, mortal -” 

“ - my name is Castiel -” 

“ - fine, Cas, the other is a mouthful. Anyway, there’s a prophecy to be played out that speaks of a ‘mortal restoring the right of those above’ or something like that,” Dean said, his voice altering to something more authoritative when he was supposedly quoting the prophecy he didn’t seem to harbor much thought in. Castiel found himself frowning at the nonchalance in the God’s tone, already sensing just how much faith the other man had in him. 

“And how am I to do something like that?” 

Dean was suddenly looking at him and it startled Castiel to be under such a scrutinizing gaze. He briefly wondered how that gaze would affect him should Dean ever have his sight restored. 

“You’re asking the wrong man, Cas.” 

The God turned his head back towards the ocean and Castiel frowned harder, clenching his fists into the sand as he watched the tumultuous waves crash against the shores. He found himself speaking through gritted teeth, without thinking of his words before they left his mouth. 

“I want... to help, though. I never had faith in any of you. The idea of Gods and Goddesses was laughable, something I believed the cleric in our village used to motivate the folk to listen and do what was expected of them. But you’re real... you’re here... and if I’m somehow supposed to help, I want to try. I want to help.” 

Castiel fell silent as he continued to stare out at the ocean, his shoulders slumped as the force of his exasperation pulled everything from him. He stiffened as he heard a chuckling beside him, causing him to glance towards the God with disbelief. Dean was... laughing? Not truly laughing, but chuckling with some dry sense of humor. “You’ve more in you than I expected, mortal.” 

“Oh. Thank... thank you?” 

“Don’t thank me yet. You’ve done nothing to prove that you can help us.” 

Dean stood and Castiel’s eyes followed, wide with disbelief as the God brushed the sand from him with a simple shake of his clothes. Some landed on Castiel and he hardly moved to brush it off as Dean stretched his arms and glanced over his shoulder in the general direction of Charlie – who was walking towards them with a solemn expression on her face. 

“Dean... Castiel, I’ve got reason to suspect that Gabriel is working with Lucifer.” 

A curse in a language that was unfamiliar to Castiel left Dean’s mouth, and it still made him blush at the mere notion of what it _could_ entail. When he recovered, however, he turned to look back towards the redhead with skepticism on his face. “Lucifer... as in, the God of Death?” 

“Don’t grant him such an honor, Cas. He’s the God of the Underworld, Darkness, nothing more,” Dean said with a growl on his lips, though Charlie was giving him a strange look as she glanced between Castiel and him. A secret, small expression flicked over her face quickly – so fast that Castiel almost missed it. 

“Well, no matter the title, why would Gabriel work with someone so despised?” Castiel could not make the connection and, if he was assuming correctly, neither could the others. There was no response to his question, no time for it as they were suddenly joined by Samuel and a beautiful woman that Castiel now knew as Eileen. 

“Are we going to find Lucifer?” 

Eileen was the one to speak, her voice filled with emotion and slightly off with her inability to suddenly hear herself. Her expression broke slightly as Samuel squeezed her close and placed a gentle kiss upon her forehead, his height hiding the raging storm that was his expression. Dean’s jaw was clenched again, along with his fists at his side, and Charlie was the one to actually respond to Eileen with a nod. She spoke her words slow and with a smile on her lips, allowing Eileen to watch her and take in what she was saying. 

“Yes. But first – we're finding Abaddon.”


	13. Realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting warm!
> 
> Leave me a comment if y'all are enjoying the story so far.
> 
> xo.

* * *

No one goes beyond the Valley, for the Wildwood is too dangerous. 

It was a message that had been told to Castiel ever since he was young and his father discovered just how much his son preferred to wander. There had been many times that Castiel had been snatched from the looming edge of the Wildwood, from the shadows reaching out as if to pull him right in. Those shadows were like the creatures there: dangerous and a temptation to fight. The Valley was safe, home, light. The Wildwood was filled with the unknown, which seemed to be what people were truly afraid of, in the end. It was what Castiel had been taught to fear, but never really felt. It was what Castiel had been made to believe for most of his life because of the fears of his father. Those fears had no basis in the curious boy, even as he grew into a man. 

Still... if someone had approached him and told him he would travel out of the Wildwood, find a fairy woman and start associating with Gods and Goddesses he’d never believed in? If someone had told him he would use a way of travel that baffled him and reeled his stomach to reach points of the world he’d never thought to exist before? He would have laughed in their faces, laughed until his face turned red and tears fell down his cheeks. 

Yet, here he was, walking towards a location that was as still as death. A heaviness hung in the air around the group as they moved forward at a speed that made no sense. Castiel glanced around himself, feeling a heat settle into his skin and draw sweat to his hairline. He tugged at his tunic top and pulled at the collar, trying desperately to get some air flow beneath the lightweight fabric. His eyes wandered to the rest of the group and saw that he wasn’t the only one affected. 

Dean had sweat on the nape of his neck and his lips were pursed with distaste. Samuel had adjusted his larger, outer cloak to wrap about his waist and reveal the thinner shirt beneath with all it had adorned on it. Luckily for the women, their looser skirts swayed around the movements of their legs and seemed to keep them a fair deal cooler than the men. The weight of his arrowhead felt heavy against his chest and he let out a huff of a sigh, wiping the back of his hand across his brow. 

“It won’t be long now, mortal.” 

Dean’s voice filled his senses and he turned to glance at the God, seeing the way his jaw was clenched. Castiel wondered if it was irritation towards himself, or their situation, or this Abaddon person. From what he knew of Dean so far, the God seemed irritated with almost everything, so it could likely be a combination of all of it. 

“Sorry... it’s just so warm here,” Castiel apologized, feeling like he needed to just in case his motions were aggravating Dean further. A chuckle passed through his lips and caused Castiel to smile slightly, wiping his brow again as they continued their strange, fast-paced walk. 

“Well, I’m certain that Abaddon prefers it that way, considering she’s the Goddess of Fire.” 

“I’m... unfamiliar with her.” 

“I am not surprised,” Dean said, his teeth gritting together as they closed in on a rather large, dark mountain of stone. Little grew around its base, most of it decorated with porous rocks. “Mortals have always been picky about which Gods or Goddesses to worship. As one from a valley region, it makes sense that the Goddess of Fire is low on your list of recognition. If anything, you probably prayed that she would _not_ grace your homes and fields.” 

Now that Dean had brought it up, it certainly made sense to Castiel. The man let out a hum of acknowledgement, once again reminded that Dean could not see him as he nodded. He spoke as they approached a darkened entrance, walking into the shadow of the ominous mountain and entering a place that was cooler, but not any more comfortable. 

“I suppose that’s true... I guess I never realized or paid attention enough during prayer to notice.” 

Enraptured by the area around him, Castiel missed the look of surprise and curiosity that Dean shot his way, falling behind a step as the human man walked ahead to catch up with Samuel’s large stride. 

They walked through naturally formed hallways and caverns. Shadows lurked and crept around the corners, just out of sight but obviously present. No one else seemed concerned as they walked, though it unnerved Castiel immensely. The feeling only faded when they reached a large, open cave a few moments later. It was well lit and much cooler than the atmosphere outside of the mountain. Castiel felt more comfortable immediately and it took only a moment for his eyes to be drawn towards an extravagant throne on the other end of the room. It was formed of smooth stone, though the outer edges were just as porous as the rest of the rock around them. It glowed ethereally, only adding to the natural beauty of the woman who sat upon it. 

“Boys. I was wondering when you’d show up at my humble abode.” 

Her accent was foreign; Castiel could not place it. His eyes remained on her as they approached, and he took in her clothes. They were put together robes of black, flowing around her and accenting the natural curves of her figure, exposing her pale arms and sections of her midriff. The two Gods bowed their heads to her and she did the same, a form of greeting that Castiel also followed the example of. 

“Abaddon. Good to see you.” 

“Don’t lie,” she purred to Samuel as he spoke, her lips curved flirtatiously, even as her eyes flickered over each of them individually. “Though the rumors seem to be true. One of you is unable to see me.” 

“I’m sure your beauty remains a mystery,” Dean said dryly, drawing a laugh from the Goddess that crackled in the air. 

“Your sparkling personality continues to shine through, Dean,” she said, an edge to her tone that reminded Castiel of just how dangerous these people could be. As much as he wished it, he failed to remain unnoticed as the Goddess of Fire turned her eyes upon him. He wanted to shrink beneath their power, the heat behind them as she almost seemed to devour him with that simple gaze. 

“You’ve brought a mortal into my mountain, Samuel?” That edge returned to her voice again as she stiffened in her throne, parting her lips to speak once more, only to have her words interrupted. Not by Samuel, though – but by Eileen. 

“He’s the Chosen One, Abaddon. We need him, as you’re aware,” she spoke, her tone soothing and soft, though slightly off with her recent deafness. The hardness to Abaddon’s gaze softened as she looked towards Eileen and rose from her throne, descending down to their level as she seemed to float down the stone stairs. 

“He got to you too, dear,” she said, something akin to anger and regret flicking across her features briefly. Then, she rounded on Castiel, features ablaze as she watched him carefully. Despite how he wished to cower beneath such power, he stood his ground and watched her curiously. 

“Well then, Chosen One. Let’s just see what you can do to help us with our current... problem, shall we? Follow,” she commanded, waving her hand over her shoulder as she briskly walked towards another dark corridor entrance off to the left. Samuel cast a glance to Charlie and the others before following, holding Eileen’s hand as they moved through the cavern. Dean walked a little slower than the others, keeping himself closer towards Castiel. He wasn’t sure if it was because of convenience or another reason. 

“Don’t cross her,” Dean murmured to Castiel as they walked into darkness, Castiel surprised by how much he could see when they were shrouded into the hallway. It wasn’t as dark as it initially appeared; he listened to Dean as he heard the other voices filling the area ahead of them. “She’s the Goddess of Fire for a reason.” 

“I had no plans to.” 

Dean laughed, though it was quiet and almost sad. “Most don’t.”

* * *

Castiel didn’t belong. 

The meeting amongst the Gods and Goddesses – and Charlie, of course – was filled with the frantic rise and fall of voices. It was filled with the names of places that were unfamiliar to Castiel and mentions of Lucifer and Gabriel. Several times, Samuel or Charlie had to break up a shouting match between Dean and Abaddon, their tempers getting the better of them. Sitting back and watching, Castiel began to piece together quite a bit from the interactions and conversation. 

Dean seemed to be hostile at each mention of Gabriel; Castiel had noticed that from their first encounter. The God harbored some kind of ill-will towards the demi-God, though Castiel wasn’t sure where the source started. Samuel, on the other hand, seemed to have some kind of stoic pain he was holding onto at the mention of Gabriel’s name, a pain that Eileen wore freely on her features whenever she read the name on someone’s lips. 

It didn’t take a scholar to notice that there was heartbreak there, even Castiel noticed. 

“I told you all that it was a _mistake_ from the beginning, giving him this power! And look where it has brought us! I’ve no sight; Eileen cannot hear. How long until Gabriel comes along and takes _your_ relic, Abaddon? Or Samuel? How long until Gabriel comes with Lucifer at his side and ruins this world?” 

Dean’s speech grew in volume with his anger, a vein in his temple pulsing as his words carried to the group. 

“Whether it was a mistake, or not,” Charlie said, silencing Dean’s immediate motion to protest with a glare that was lost on his sight but felt in the atmosphere. “ - it’s happened. And we need to _stop_ it from happening to the others. If Lucifer is behind this, fueling Gabriel’s abilities somehow... we need to find out what we can do to stop them both.” 

“Are we sure he’s partnered with Lucifer?” Abaddon spoke, pinching her brow as if this conversation was a personal irritation to her. 

“Well... it’s just a theory,” Samuel said, a frown turning down his entire face. Abaddon looked at him in disbelief, opening her mouth only to be interrupted by Sam’s large hand coming up to indicate he was still speaking. “It’s a theory based on the idea that Gabriel has no power to go against each God and Goddess. He has no _reason_ to upend the world as we know it. What would motivate him? What would cause his betrayal?” 

The pain was now more present and seemed to cover the room in a somber, heavy blanket. 

“Sam,” Dean spoke, his tone gentler than Castiel had ever heard it before. “Sam we know... we know that it hurts, the idea that he could have betrayed you and Eileen, that -” 

“No.” Samuel shut Dean down with a hard glare – another thing to be felt, but not seen – and slammed a hand upon the dark oak table before them. “No, I refuse to believe such horrible things. Gabriel is _good_ , despite your distaste for him,” he said, pointedly looking towards both Dean and Abaddon. He sat back in his seat and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Gabriel is good,” he repeated in a softer tone, looking at them all with exhausted hazel eyes. 

“So what would Lucifer want?” 

All eyes turned to Castiel, who had a delayed reaction to even realizing he’d spoken in the first place. He sat up a little and looked at them, his brows pinched. 

“What do you mean, Castiel?” Charlie spoke, her expression encouraging and curious as she leaned forward from her seat near him. 

“Well, if Gabriel is truly good and has no reason to be stealing the relics, why would Lucifer possibly want them? What good would it do to partner with him? Would that provide Gabriel with something he lacked before?” 

His questions seemed to stun silence into the group, and he was surprised when he heard Eileen speak. She was directly across from him at the round table, and her eyes had been watching his lips intently. Recognition dawned on her features and her soothing voice came across the table to them all. 

“You believe he’s being forced.” 

The words caused murmurs to erupt, though Charlie was the one nodding and speaking above everyone. “It makes sense. It’s a possibility that Lucifer is using Gabriel to do the dirty work of finding the relics before he comes in to make his move.” 

“He could cause the whole world to fall. He could control everything, if he had all the relics together.” 

Samuel’s words were stony; they brought a silence with them that settled over everyone like a heavy weight. The silence stretched uncomfortably until Abaddon rose, slamming both of her palms on the table and looking at every with a fiery resolve only the Goddess of Fire could possess. 

“Well, no need to sit around, then. Let’s find out what theory is true – and retrieve the relics either way. And I suppose the Chosen One can come along, too, for the sake of prophecy.” 

Castiel almost shuddered when Abaddon turned her predatory smile his way, but he stood his ground. 

“Let’s find out if you’re useful after all.”


	14. Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been over two months since I've updated this.  
> Where in the hell is the plot going?  
> Your guess is as good as mine, friends!
> 
> Leave me a comment if you're still around. It'll let me know if I should bother continuing with this little experiment of a story that has morphed into something else altogether.   
> xo.

* * *

Castiel wasn’t sure whose idea it was to try and find the entrance to the Underworld, but it was probably a good thing he couldn’t recall. The journey to try and find such a place wasn’t an easy one, especially for someone who lacked the ability to manipulate the world around him. Samuel made it easy for the group to shift through the thickness of trees as they sped over the landscape, their feet never moving faster than the pace of a walk. It took a while for Castiel to get used to, but eventually, he managed to get his gaze into the right place ahead of him that prevented him from feeling nauseous with each glance into his periphery. 

It didn’t stop him from being teased by Dean or Abaddon on the journey, however – their own taunts towards one another only providing enough entertainment for a brief stint of time. Samuel finally shut them up as the sun began to disappear behind some distant hills and the group settled down amongst the trees to make camp. Castiel had a feeling that it was more for his sake than anything else, but he appreciated it nonetheless. He found a spot nearby the fire Abaddon created from practically nothing and settled into the grass, his pack off of him and settled into his lap. He dug through it and chewed on a bit of the leftover food, offering some to Charlie as she sat down nearby. 

“How’re you doing, Castiel?” 

Her interest seemed genuine, and Castiel found himself smiling weakly in response. 

“I’m doing as well as I could be, given the circumstances.” 

“Not used to being in the company of Gods and Goddesses, along with ethereal creatures, are you?” 

Charlie’s words were quipped with humor, something that drew an honest laugh from Castiel for the first time in days. Charlie joined in on his laughter and they both sipped some water that had been provided to them from Eileen, who had gathered it from a nearby spring. 

“No, I can definitely say that I’m not. Before leaving the Valley, I didn’t believe that any of you even existed.” 

Charlie looked at him for a moment before speaking with a gentle smile on her lips, a shrug bobbing one of her freckled shoulders up and down. 

“Being a skeptic is not a bad thing, Castiel. I admire it, considering I’m sure your father pressed many beliefs upon you. Your independent thoughts are probably why you are the Chosen One.” 

Her words were outright as she sipped her water and chewed on a piece of dried meat Castiel had shared with her. He quieted as he thought about what she said, only lifting his head when they were both interrupted by Dean as he took his seat on a fallen log nearby. The firelight played along his features in a way that twisted Castiel’s lower gut, something that he was incredibly unfamiliar with and caused him to put the rest of his own food back into his pack. 

“If you even believe you’re the Chosen One, Cas.” 

“Dean. Don’t instill doubt into him. Now is not the time.” 

“When would be the time, Charlie?” Dean’s sightless eyes uncannily turned towards the pair, an eyebrow cocked as he twisted his torso to face them. “The Chosen One could have been anyone who came across the Arrow. Just because this... mortal _boy_ was able to discover it means nothing.” 

“You’re being ignorant, Dean.” 

Abaddon’s voice joined them as she scoffed and sat daintily down beside the God of the Wind and Sky. Dean stiffened as she sat there and visibly rolled his eyes, turning back towards her and moving the gaze of his sightless eyes. 

“And why say that, Abaddon?” 

“Because you know that the Arrow was created for the prophecy. The Chosen One would only be found by the Arrow itself. Do you not remember making it all of those years ago?” 

“The memories are quite blurry. Some of us were quite focused on other things.” 

Dean spoke through gritted teeth and Charlie’s wings fluttered behind her. Castiel could practically grab the tension in the air, as if it were a physical being. 

“No one is discrediting your actions during that time, Dean,” Abaddon scoffed, brushing away his worry with a pat of a careless hand on his shoulder. “You certainly helped in your own way, stopping the Leviathan from destroying Cailtare.” 

“The Leviathan? You’re speaking of Cailtare, the ancient island?” 

Eyes turned to Castiel, each holding a different expression. Abaddon looked slightly irritated, as if she had forgotten that there was someone around who wouldn’t be able to follow their conversation. Charlie seemed pleased that Castiel was speaking up at all, fully supportive of whatever roll he was supposed to play in all of this. And Dean... Dean looked towards him with a cross between passivity and interest. 

“Yes.” 

Castiel leaned forward, glancing towards Dean, running a hand through his own messy hair. “I’ve heard the stories, about the almost fall of Cailtare because of a massive creature plaguing the seas. You... stopped it?” 

“... yes.” 

Dean seemed as though he couldn’t decide between feeling pride and feeling a bit of embarrassment. Color crawled up his features and he glanced at his hands in his lap. 

“He likes to act as though it wasn’t much of a big deal, but he saved many lives that day.” 

Charlie spoke with a loud whispering tone, the admiration present in her words that had Dean stiffening with a bit of discomfort. Castiel was speaking before he could think about what he was going to say. He merely felt driven to try and ease the discomfort of the man before him. 

“In the Valley... I used to think the Gods and Goddesses, if they did exist, were of no help at all. We still struggled; we still had losses and weather that destroyed our food and livestock. Why would there be all-powerful beings if they were to be of no good use to those below? Were they that proud?” 

Castiel rubbed the back of his neck and gave Abaddon and Dean both a small smile, his eyes shining brightly in the firelight. “It’s... good to know that I was ignorant in more ways than one about you, about all of you.” 

“Thank you, Castiel. I like you more and more every time you open your mouth,” Abaddon purred with a curled smile on her lips. It still caused Castiel to fight back a shudder, but the discomfort eased when he saw Dean settle a little on the log and nod his head in recognition of what Castiel had said. It wasn’t a verbal response, but it seemed to be a step in the right direction. That was all Castiel could ask for, just a little bit to satiate his curiosity about the blind God.

* * *

The moon was but a sliver in the starry skies above the camp as the fire fell to nothing but embers and coals ringed by stone. The Gods and Goddesses were spread about, in various states of slumber. Samuel with his arms protectively wrapped around the form of Eileen, curled against his body and shielded from the now silent world around her. Abaddon slept closest to the fire, resting upon her stomach with her arms folded beneath her head. Dean lay lengthways beside the log, on his back, one arm draped up over his chest and the other across unseeing eyes. Charlie and Castiel lay curled beside one another, the mortal resting closest to the imposing line of trees surrounding them. 

It was from those shadows that darkness crept and creatures unbeknownst to humans crawled among the thick trunks. They used the shadows to their advantage, shifting through them and around them, seeking out the one who possessed the Amulet. It glowed through their vision, just like the ebbing glow of the figures surrounded by the dimming heat of the flame. Fire was dangerous, and the creatures knew they could not strike until the light had dissipated into nothingness. 

Long arms crept from the darkness first, before hunched figures moved like ink through the grass. Their limbs extended like the shadows of the tree limbs above, blending in as they inched closer and closer to their target. A hiss settled in the air and paused the motion, stilled the monsters in their paths. A howl echoed, more like a screech than the call of a true animal, and the aftermath was akin to the sounds being sucked from the air around them. It was all-encompassing, the silence, still as the stars above. 

It was the closest shadow that crept over Castiel’s chest, reaching for the Amulet to only find that it was covered by some kind of... material. Another hiss echoed and was replied to by a deeper hiss in the trees. Three more shadowy figures inched their way forward, pausing to hover right above the mortal. In a singular heartbeat, their chill woke the man below, his eyes shooting open just in time to see the darkness take solid form and feeling the icy fingers grasping at his body. 

The darkness, the very shadows themselves filled his open mouth as he tried to shout, to alert those so close. He choked on the bitter chill, a tenseness seizing his body as it was yanked into the darkness of the trees to be followed by a myriad of hisses and the tinkle of haunting laughter.


End file.
